


SEPARATED TOGETHER

by heatherpeters



Category: The Blacklist
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Comfort, Divorce, Established Relationship, F/M, Lizzington - Freeform, Marriage, Reconciliation, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22210081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heatherpeters/pseuds/heatherpeters
Summary: In an alternate world, Liz and Red are married and working together with the task force; Happy and in love, neither see or anticipate the consequences of attempting to protect one another; Tragedy ensues, and their love is sorely tested as their marriage is put to the ultimate test.  This story also involves a blacklister introduced in season two: the King Family; I just put Red and the task force in an alternate setting.
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington
Comments: 95
Kudos: 215





	1. Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

The papers were signed, signifying the end to their union. Their marriage. Their vows. 

It was over, done. Finished.

Standing by the window in his hotel suite, Red stared down at the thick solid gold band on his left hand and swallowed hard, holding back a choking gasp.

It all came pouring back: the wreck of his memories to haunt and pierce his heart.

His marriage was over.

Yes, the past came into view now: the mutual attraction, the smiles and laughter, the arguments and disagreements.

The blossoming passion between them. The falling in love.

The danger. The conflicts.

The love – always, the love.

Lizzie.

Pouring himself a double scotch, downing it in one scorching hurried gulp, having another, and still another, he stepped back to the window, and stared blankly at the streets below, aware of the fact that he missed their home; the safe haven he'd built for them deep in the Bethesda suburbs two years before. He'd been hunted by the Cabal at that time, and then there were others, before he'd settled all scores. He'd done everything in his power, used his endless wealth in order to keep her safe. For all intents and purposed, their arrangement had worked. 

Placing his glass on a nearby table, he slid a thumb over his wedding band, feeling that smooth metal, experiencing a degree of comfort at the touch.

No matter what, he’d made a vow to never remove it; It had been his solemn promise, his commitment to love her forever. And he would.

Truth be known, he’d never be free of Elizabeth Reddington, never not need or want her. He belonged to her today, until he died. Closing his eyes, he brought back a vision of her in their bed: alluring, sexy and seductive. He clenched his hands as the vision of threading his fingers through her wealth of hair brought back the faint scent of her shampoo. The scent of musk and sex that hovered over their bed when making love to her, as she surrendered herself to him. He would always belong to her, heart, body and soul, no matter what a god damned pile of stapled papers stated.

At last he allowed a feeling of blank numbness to shroud him, as he allowed the sting of heartache to lessen from the consumed scotch.

Another day, another minute, without her, without her presence in his life, without her warmth and smile, her feminine allure, cute chuckle and mesmerizing blue eyes. Closing his eyes, he could still feel the slope of her back, the curve of her body, the outline of her breasts -- and he ached.

Shaking his head against the painful thoughts, he removed his clothes and left them in a sloppy pile on the way to the bathroom, then stepped into the shower and repeated a ritual he’d performed every night since they separated.

He turned on the nearly tepid water, stepped under the torturous spray, planted his palms on the tile and bowed his head while he allowed his low cries of heartache to echo all around him, blocking his heartbreak to all but himself. 

But all the icy spray provided was a sobering shock, and he couldn’t have that. He needed, longed to become numb, an escape from the reality of staring down at their names on those divorce papers.

Chinatown. He needed to return to his tiny reserved room in that corner of the city where he would seek whatever comfort he could.

He called himself a coward for pursuing his precious opium regimen, but, as he dressed in jeans and a black sweatshirt, shoes and leather jacket, he saw no alternative. He desired a temporary respite from the vision of his wife, his love and his memories.

He texted Dembe; lied to his dear friend, informing him of his intent to drive to Cape May to escape for a bit. Dembe called him instantly, telling Red that running away was not the answer. “I’ll call you when I return.” And Dembe, being the man he was, thought it best not to argue with Red, deciding he’d done the right thing by placing a GPS signal on Red’s car.

As Red paid the valet and had his Mercedes sports car delivered to him, he found himself winding towards his secret haven, and tried, without success, to force thoughts of Elizabeth from his mind. But she was never far from every fiber of his being. He could still hear her tiny cries of ecstasy as they made love, climaxing together, whispering erotic words and holding each other through the night. 

He saw her face everywhere; she was now, and would always, be his light and love.

But not tonight; Tonight he needed to dissolve into nothingness, crawl into a maw of blackness – if just for a while.

How had it gotten to this point? Why hadn’t he taken more complex measures to protect her? Why hadn't he forbade her to work the Earl King case?

Why? Why? Why?

Questions that held no answers. Questions that would haunt him the rest of his days……

6 MONTHS BEFORE  
FBI BLACK SITE/THE POST OFFICE  
WASHINGTON, D.C.

As was their usual routine, Red and Elizabeth Reddington arrived at the black site in separate cars at different times of the morning, all for the sake of Elizabeth’s safety.

They lived together in the Bethesda suburbs, in a house that Red built for her, and spared no expense in creating a safe fortress for his beloved Lizzie.

Harold Cooper had disagreed with their decision to marry, knowing that anyone associated with Red faced danger and death every moment of every day.

But over the months, witnessing the measures Red had gone to keep Elizabeth safe caused Harold to change his mind, as did the other members of the task force.

How Red had managed to keep his marriage to Elizabeth a secret, Cooper hadn't ventured a guess. But knowing Raymond Reddington, anything was possible when it came to the welfare and security of Elizabeth.

Harold was gathering his team in the war room, which included Aram Mojtabi, Donald Ressler, and Samar Navabi, when Elizabeth arrived first, accompanied by Dembe Zuma.

The young, lovely woman Cooper had considered his surrogate daughter was smiling, naturally, as she usually did, ever since she and Red had revealed their intentions to be together.

Since the day Reddington surrendered himself to the FBI, more than seven years before, Harold noticed something lasting and abiding between Red and Elizabeth.

And, never forgetting what and who Red was, and the fact he remained a wanted fugitive, Cooper, cautiously, yet wholeheartedly, approved of their union. When they fell in love, it was evident to all in the war room, especially Aram, who was the romantic of the group. He was the first to notice the way Red and Liz changed from strangers, to confidantes, friends and allies, into something more, much more. 

Apparently, everyone in the task force approved of this odd, unconventional couple. It didn’t erase the inherent danger in every case they worked, but no one protected Elizabeth with as much passion and intensity as Raymond Reddington.

The team gathered around a long, high desk, filled with papers and Aram’s laptop, when they turned in unison as the freight elevator doors separated and opened with a loud creak and bump.

With little flourish but exhibiting outstanding presence, out stepped the concierge of crime, garbed in a pristine, custom fitted three-piece light gray suit. A burgundy paisley tie and dark gray fedora completed his signature look as he entered and approached the group, accompanied by armed, trusted members of his team, Baz and Morgan.

Slipping off his hat, his eyes found Elizabeth, acknowledging his wife with a smile and wink, while she nodded and returned his loving smile.

“Good morning all.” He greeted the team, and stepped up to the glass desk, standing next to his wife. “Aram, do you have the information I forwarded?”

Aram sat on a high, leather chair and returned a respectful nod. “Yes, of course, Mr. Reddington.”

The expert computer tech proceeded to click the keys of his laptop until a myriad of images appeared on the large screens bolted to the wall above them.

Red look of contempt and subtle rage was obvious at the images of brothers Francis, Tyler and their wheelchair bound father, Earl. 

“The King family.” Red began, looking up at the images, as a slight twitch of his upper lip marred his handsome visage. 

“That’s Earl Senior in the wheelchair, accompanied by sons Tyler and Francis – a dynasty funded for the past two hundred years based on unspeakable crimes. Decades of indentured servitude, a dynasty that continues today; Trust fund billionaires who’ve taken human slavery to a perverse level. They operate on Jekyll Island in the Hudson Valley, in an old mansion, and hold their invitation-only auctions at the ‘ Vicarage,’ as it’s called. Besides enslaving and then auctioning off humans, who, by the way are imprisoned in cages in a basement like dungeon, the King’s take bids on priceless stolen gems, works of art, uranium, one of a kind Ming treasures and the like. Records kept for over two centuries are kept and written in long hand and placed in ledgers, along with a photo of the ‘merchandise’ they acquire.” 

The task force stood transfixed, as they listened transfixed, to Red, who continued in a deep, emotion-filled tone.

“But their biggest trade, however, is human flesh, whether it be man, woman – or child, makes no difference. If it brings in a price, the Kings lay claim to it. Earl and his evil-doer sons make a perfect inclusion to the blacklist.”

Cooper nodded. “We need to work on a way to crash this party. Any ideas?”

“I’ll allow myself to be taken.” Red stated, rather than volunteered, watching as Elizabeth’s face went pale. “I could wear one of those tracking ‘things’ you people are famous for.”

Elizabeth held her tongue for the moment, as Ressler joined the conversation.

“Seems to me this sounds more than just business, Reddington. Sounds personal to me.”

Red turned and glared at the young agent. “Truth, is, Donald, I’m responsible for Earl’s, shall we say, injury, resulting in the wheelchair. To say that he despises me is surely a well-known understatement. Yet, in all the years I’ve been involved in my, shall we say, nefarious activities, I’ve never once become involved in what Earl and his ilk have been doing. Taking humans as slaves? Selling and buying women and children, some so young they cannot speak for themselves? Yes, Agent Ressler, perhaps the Kings deserve a little personal one on one time from me. I’m not asking. It’s done.

All eyes on him, Red continued. “My team have discovered that their next gala will be held in ten days; a short time to be prepared, I realize. Yet, I’ve discovered that this auction will be the last for a very long time. We cannot risk the lives of any more who would be kidnapped, imprisoned, sold, and presumably taken to places where we cannot possibly rescue them all.” 

Cooper nodded but showed a bit of trepidation. “You realize that if we lose you, or your tracking device fails, you’re on your own.”

Red nodded, pursed his lips, annoyed by the suggestion of opposition to his plan. “Harold, you need to have more faith in me, my friend. As long as our teams join together to follow me to the Vicarage, how can this plan fail?”

“It won’t, not with your bravado.” Ressler smirked.

Red laughed sardonically, turning toward Ressler. “If you’ve noticed, I’ve been doing this sort of thing for a long time. This is my world, and you are, in essence, a tourist. So….not to worry, Donald.”

Cooper frowned but realized arguing with Reddington was a lost cause. “Okay. Let’s give this plan a go. Aram, we’ll need maps, blueprints of this ‘vicarage’, then make sure Red is fitted for a tracking patch. Ressler, Elizabeth, in the meantime, meet with Red’s team so that we can all be on point the night of the auction. Let’s go to it, people.” 

Elizabeth nodded to Cooper, then turned toward her husband. “Can we talk in private?”

Saying nothing, Red turned and walked behind her, up the stairs, and followed his wife into her office. 

She closed the door behind him and turned to face him. “When were you going to tell me that you were planning on playing decoy?” She asked in a loud whisper. “Do you know how dangerous this is? Why does it have to be you?!”

He leaned forward, catching a whiff of her perfume and savoring her essence so that he could carry it all day long. “So, it won’t be you, Lizzie.”

His words were recited so quietly, so calm and with such certainty, she lost her breath for a moment.

“We agreed that this was my job when we were married, Red.” She turned and paced the tiny office. “Ressler and I could go in as a married couple, lay a trap, then bid on a --”

“ – No.”

She nodded, making him think she’d lost the argument. When they married, she’d also agreed that she would not take assignments that would put her in dire peril. It was something he’d nearly begged from her, and she hadn’t possessed the heart to refuse him.

“But I can help.” And she would, whether he liked it or not. There was no way she was going to let her husband walk into that auction like a sitting duck. Yes, he was a brilliant strategist, Yes, he possessed a mind like a steel trap. And yes, he knew how to take care of himself, but there was more at risk here than just Red playing a dangerous game with the Kings. Much more. 

“You will.” He stepped over to her, caressed her face, smiled into her eyes. “You and your team will be tracking my every move until Earl and his diabolical operation is shut down.” He sighed and smiled, the vision of the apprehension of the Kings, a sweet morsel on his tongue. His faith in her had never wavered, not one iota, since day one. 

She nodded but didn’t verbalize her agreement. “I need to start making calls, and then we’ll meet with your team and start building a plan. See you later.”

They shared a quick, but heated kiss, he gave her a last warm smile, then left her office.

She made sure he was gone from the building before she locked the door to her office, sat at her desk, and turned on the goose-neck desk lamp. She opened a side bottom drawer and lifted the small white envelope from her large leather tote, knowing what it contained: A sonogram, dated two weeks before.

Sliding out the small black and white image, she stared at it before wiping a single tear from her eye.

“Hi there, little one. I know I promised your dad I wouldn’t get close on this assignment, but I won’t lose him. It’s too dangerous, and he’s determined not to involve me. I must do this. I’ll be careful.” She whispered, hating herself for knowing she would deceive her husband when she arrived at the vicarage before him. "I promise."

She kissed the tiny blip on the photo, then tucked it back into her bag, silently vowing she’d tell Red she was pregnant.

Right after the Kings were arrested and incarcerated.

~~~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the plan to apprehend the notorious King crime family is formed by Red and the task force, Elizabeth fears for Red's life, and, unbeknownst to him and the task force until its too late, makes a decision to protect him that could cost them all dearly.

A week later, Red and Elizabeth sat across from each other in their dining room, sharing breakfast and quiet conversation.

The plan for the auction was in place: Within several hours, a small, square invisible tracking patch would be placed on Red’s upper arm, much like the one Elizabeth wore when they pursued master criminal Wujing several years before. It would be tracked by Aram so Red would stay safe when he arrived at the Vicarage, and purposely allow himself to be captured by the Kings. Harold had never been agreeable with the idea that Red would willingly be taken by a family of murdering, torturing psychopaths, but then again, Assistant Director Cooper never thought he’d see the day when he would witness Raymond Reddington surrender himself, on his knees, to the FBI.

Red watched his wife over the rim of his coffee cup, admiring the gentle beauty and serene demeanor of the woman he’d married, love filling his heart with a deep abiding passion and aching devotion that went beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. She was his Polaris, his North Star…his home. If anything happened to her, he would cease to exist, as he was bound to her by heart, mind and soul. Their lives together were anything but normal, yet they lived for each other, and just for the joyous fact that she loved him, he was content to quietly enjoy her presence in his life.

Unaware that he was watching her, Red took several moments, drinking her in, once again memorizing each facet of her while she read the morning newspaper.

Her skin seemed to glow in past weeks, her eyes, brighter. He noticed she’d been drinking herbal tea instead of coffee lately, which made sense, considering the path of his thoughts. His heartbeat quickened as he hid a smile behind the china porcelain cup.

She’d been sleeping deep until the alarm woke her. He’d seen her sneak a dry cracker once or twice of late. Steaks and burgers had been replaced with salads and more chicken dishes, bottled water instead of the occasional soda. Subtle changes were apparent to her body: Her tummy a bit rounder, her breasts seemed fuller, her nipples a bit darker and extremely sensitive; Their lovemaking proved deeply heated and more heart stopping than usual; she was a bit moody; her temper short, quick to ignite.

Hormones.

Why hadn’t she told him she was pregnant?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

His heart turned over at her soft tone. Red blinked twice and turned his attention from her apparent pregnancy, to that beautiful smile. “I love you.”

Elizabeth rose from her seat and stepped to him, lowering her head to his inviting lips. “Yes….yes, I know.” She kissed him sweetly, tasting the coffee on his mouth, and closing her eyes to enjoy his kiss. It was time. She needed to tell him – now.

“Red?”

Stormy gray eyes gazed into her sapphire orbs. “Yes, sweetheart.”

At that moment, both their cells buzzed, and she shrugged, then answered her phone, while he answered his own.

They were receiving intel from their sources: for Red, it was Dembe, conveying info regarding the King family plan. For Elizabeth, it was Ressler on the other line, relaying additional details on the itinerary of the King auction.

By the time they were done with their individual phone calls, it was time to leave for the post office, and unfortunately, not the time to tell Red she was pregnant.

She kissed him goodbye as he departed first with Dembe, leaving Baz, Morgan and Chuck to escort her when she left the house shortly after him.

Later, she thought. She’d tell him later.

TWO HOURS LATER

They say hindsight is 20/20, so how could Elizabeth possibly know that she’d not get the chance to tell Red about the baby?

After a quick, but concise briefing at the post office, Cooper relayed to the team that the King operation would go down, tonight.

Red would leave with Dembe and his own team immediately, in order to prepare, while Elizabeth would have just enough time to collaborate with Ressler. They were, supposedly, going to keep surveillance of Red from an unmarked van close to the Vicarage. That was the arranged plan.

Too quickly however, Elizabeth would discover that sometimes, plans do, inevitably, change.

Aram had gained not only precious information from Glen Carter, who was Red’s ‘finder’ in accordance with instructions to discover the time and date of the auction. It was very short notice, but Red would be ready. He always was. 

Aram’s intel on the King family was disturbing indeed. Elizabeth knew how depraved and dangerous they were but witnessing proof via photos and printed information derived from various resources sent shudders down her spine. Not only did these three men and their tiny band of menacing kidnappers auction off their captives for exorbitant amounts of money, their clients ran the gamut from incredibly rich foreign monarchs, to corrupt politicians, to heads of wealthy drug cartels. Their victims ranged in age from infancy to the elderly, and money was never an issue. Most, if not all the victims, were never found, and that was the part that chilled Elizabeth to the bone. 

The Kings also dabbled in rare, priceless gems, art, and other treasures which they’d pilfered from churches, museums and private collectors. Elizabeth didn’t care about that part of their criminal activities as she did the buying and selling of human flesh. 

It was the business of dealing in the sale of people; human beings; children; innocent souls.

They had to be stopped. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She and Red met briefly in her office. He shut the door behind them, then threw off his hat and tossed it to her desk, dead on.

Taking her in his arms, he pulled her to him, searched her face with intense scrutiny, as if he were memorizing her lovely visage, just in case…..well, just in case.

“Stay safe, Red.” She told him as he nuzzled her neck, then kissed her behind the ear, a most sensitive spot for her, especially now, when all her nerve endings proved especially delicate. She grabbed his lapels, held on tight, while her mind screamed, ‘tell him now!’ But she couldn’t, not yet. Not when he had to be one-track focused. 

In answer, he kissed her, deeply, madly, passionately, then leaned away from her. “Stay in that van until I give the signal. We only have one chance to capture and stop them, Lizzie. I know you’ll find it hard to stay awake while listening to Agent Ressler’s ramblings, but I know you’ll succeed.”

“You make all this sound as if you were going on a picnic.” She suddenly caught a chill while standing in his arms, and her slight shiver didn’t get past him. 

He held her at arms’ length and met the myriad of emotions in her eyes of blue. “This will all be over before sunrise, I promise. Besides, by the time you get bored to tears after spending the night with Agent Ressler, Earl and his band of miscreants will be in FBI custody.”

His bit of humor drew a tiny smile from her, and he joined her in mirth. “I’ll be fine. And when I return, we’ll take some time off. How do you feel about Lake Como?”

His distraction tactic was one of the reasons why she adored him so. “Yes. We’ll take the plane and just go. Sounds wonderful.”

They stood and just stared at each other for many moments. No further words were needed. He nodded, kissed her quickly one last time, reached out his arm to her desk and retrieved his hat. Then he opened her office door and was gone.

Elizabeth suddenly felt so alone. A tremor moved up her back and down her arms. How could she let him go in alone? Surrender himself over to those savages with only that patch on his shoulder? What if the detection system failed, preventing Aram from tracking his location? What if the Kings discovered the bit of adhesive chip and kill Red on the spot? What if they knocked Red unconscious and imprioned him on a ship to nowhere? So many things could go wrong. Why had she agreed to this bit of folly?

Why did she doubt his abilities as a brilliant strategist and genius when it came to outsmarting his opponent? He’d been facing death for many years, been the ‘concierge of crime’ half his life: keeping himself alive. So why did it matter so much now? Why was she so obsessed with keeping him alive now?

She knew the answer as she slid a palm down to the center of her belly, where their child lay resting. 

“I have to help him.” She softly told her child. “I know I promised him we’d never lie to each other.” She nodded wryly. “We made a vow that there would be no more secrets between us, but I won’t let him do this without back up. Without me. I just can’t.”

Knowing she had some time, she gathered her bag containing her precious sonogram, while an idea formed in her head. When they returned from apprehending the King family, there would be a surprise waiting for him when they arrived home.

Driving to the tiny strip mall located near their home, she entered the cigar store and purchased the best they had. At the gift shop next door, she purchased a dozen pink and blue balloons. Her mood lightened somewhat, knowing she was doing something for him.

Arriving home moments later, she quickly set up the balloons and cigars on their spacious dining room table, then added the sonogram, which she prominently displayed in the center. It would be the first thing he’d see when they entered their home later.

Together. Safe. Happy.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Elizabeth ran up the stairs and approached her walk-in closet. Grabbing an elegant sequined black dress that would not wrinkle, along with a black lace wrap, matching shoes and clutch, she shoved them into a black backpack. Throwing her hair into a messy, yet fashionable knot on top of her head, she applied a little more make-up than usual. Easing into black leggings, t-shirt, sneakers and matching hoodie, she grabbed her Glock, made sure the clip was full. She strapped a tiny, yet razor sharp knife, sheathed in soft leather casing, inside her heavy black sock. 

She closed her eyes and took several cleansing deep breaths when she texted Ressler, informing him that one of Red’s team would be driving her to the Vicarage and that she would meet him there. He returned her text, telling her that her plan did not follow protocol. In answer, she disconnected the message, and powered off her cell.

Grabbing her gear, she hurried from the house, and into her midnight blue Lincoln, then took several deep breaths as a plan formed in her head. After seeing and studying the blueprints of the Vicarage earlier, she deemed the only way inside the ancient fortress was to pose as part of the catering team. Hopefully, the workers would be so busy with delivering the food and making the guests happy, she wouldn’t be noticed. It was a huge risk on her part, but confidence and protecting her husband outweighed any danger that she’d be facing. 

Once she gained access to the kitchen, she’d make her way to a bathroom with her backpack to change her clothes. Armed with weapons and her wits to guide her, she’d find Red and help him take down the nefarious King family.

Her deception would not sit well with Red, and she’d suffer his wrath because of it. However, nothing mattered more tonight than completing their mission, ending the reign of the dangerous outlaws.

Sliding her palm down to her slightly rounded tummy, Elizabeth knew that Red would forgive her – he always did. She was doing this for them. For their child.

As she drove her car from the house, she nearly turned back several times, thinking about Red and what he would do when he saw that she’d disobeyed his request to stay behind and survey the operation from a safe distance, with Ressler. 

Every mile she drove, she kept telling herself to meet Ressler and leave the operation to Red and his team. And every time she knew she couldn’t let him walk into a willing trap, where anything could happen.

There was no way she was going to have her husband appear as bait, then fly blind into the mouth of the monster.

She couldn’t possibly predict the fact that her world would shortly come tumbling down in ruin around her feet. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Red's plan to allow himself to be captured by the Kings pans out, he doesn't imagine that Elizabeth has gone against protocol and has entered the Vicarage in order to help apprehend the crime family.

Dembe stopped the Mercedes close to the entrance of the mansion, while Red observed several participants of the nights’ festivities as they strode through the heavy wooden doors of the ancient abode.

“You know they will search you, take your gun, and waste no time in adding you to the evening’s revelries.” Dembe stated.

Red nodded as he prepared to leave the car and step into the web of the spider. “I’m sure when they discover how much I’m worth, I’ll be treated special, in spite of my shackles.” He answered sardonically, brows raised.

Dembe nodded. “I will stay close by with Baz, Morgan and Chuck. Be careful, Raymond. Should you be put up for auction, there are many here who will bid on you, just to kill you. Aram is tracking your every move. The FBI guarantees your safety. With any luck, this will all be over by midnight.”

Red touched Dembe’s shoulder. “Should anything happen to me, you know where the papers are. Elizabeth will be wealthier than she ever imagined.” 

“Nothing will happen. You seem preoccupied tonight, Raymond.”

Leave it to Dembe to be able to read him. Truth is, ever since he left Elizabeth hours before, something odd had niggled at the back of his mind: a feeling of doom, or danger, he couldn’t say. Something wasn’t right, and it wasn’t about the Vicarage, or the tracking patch, or the fact that he was working alongside the task force. 

“I’m fine.” Red answered curtly, checking his weapon, then placing it to his back holster, as he walked from the car and towards the Vicarage.

Pulling his burner cell from his inside tux pocket, he dialed his wife, just wanting to hear her voice, to know she was safe.

“Hi.”

He released a quiet sigh, as her voice calmed and comforted him, as it always did.

“Hi. Are you with Agent Ressler?”

“No, um, I’m running a bit late, so I have my own car, and will meet him at the Vicarage.”

She seemed a little out of breath, a bit tentative. Alarms went off in Red’s brain. “That wasn’t the plan, Lizzie – “

His instincts, once again, had been right on point. But his next words to her never had the chance to be spoken. He’d been distracted, and at that very second, he’d been silently ambushed, a black hood thrown over his head. 

Quickly, before his captives could bind him, Red, deftly, smoothly, allowed the burner to slip from his hand to the ground. Just before he was led away, he managed to dig his heel deep into the cell, hearing the crack and snap of the plastic, effectively damaging the burner beyond all repair. 

As he found himself searched, his hands were pulled back behind him in order to subdue him. “Well, well, seems we have an unexpected guest.” Red heard the muffled accented voice as he was led, he deduced, into the vicarage. 

They’d discovered and relieved him of his weapon, and no doubt, would search him more thoroughly when he was led inside.

By now, Aram had tracked him to the vicarage, knowing he was inside the mansion. Even if the Kings found his tracking device, they would know to invade the area in due time. He worried about nothing, except his wife.

And still, he couldn’t help but think of Elizabeth and the fact that she wasn’t with Ressler. He held back a deep shudder, fearing for her and silently hoping she wasn’t planning on going rogue in order to protect him. He’d told her once before not to follow him, which nearly cost both their lives.

Fear, combined with concern, filled him as he entered the mansion. He needed to focus on the task at hand: Getting to the Kings.

He hoped that he was wrong about Elizabeth following him.

However, deep inside his heart, he knew that his pregnant wife was on her way here, to this den of iniquity.

Should she be caught, both their lives would be forfeit.

Along with the life of their unborn child.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Red? Red?”

Elizabeth kept repeating his name, already aware of the fact that his phone had gone dead.

He’d been captured.

An ache formed in her heart and radiated throughout her being as she grew closer to the vicarage. With deep resolve, she drove until she parked her car less than a quarter mile from the mansion. Rushing from the car, fighting to keep her hands from trembling, she grabbed her backpack and headed toward her destination.

“Aram is tracking him; he’s going to be okay.” She repeated the words silently like a mantra as she spied the catering truck near the back entrance to the kitchens.

Blending in with the parade of workers, she snuck inside the lower level of the house, found a bathroom, and ducked inside a stall.

Before donning the dress, she carefully strapped her tiny, but lethal, knife around an ankle, then grabbed her weapon and stashed it inside a deep pocket of her wrap.

Moments later, she’d transformed herself into a stunning, self-assured rich woman, her black and silver dress glimmering in the bright light of the rest room. Stepping into her black stiletto heels, she added onyx beaded earrings, grabbed her clutch, and looked around for a place to hide her backpack. Seeing a pair of cushy chairs in the adjoining area, she flattened out her bag, then pushed it under one of the fat, thick cushions. Taking one last look in the gold framed ornate mirror and making sure her gun nor knife was visible, she made her way to the main part of the mansion, blending in with the crowd of ‘buyers’. Thanks to her impeccable memory, she’d studied the blueprints and knew exactly where the main auction room was located. 

Suddenly she felt ill, knowing Red was somewhere close, and in danger. Although she knew he could take care of himself, she couldn’t ignore the weird tinge of fear she had for his safety. 

Wanting to blend in, she took a glass of champagne from a passing server, with no intention of drinking it. 

It was apparent that she’d not been noticed as an outsider, and she hid a tiny smile of satisfaction. If the Kings knew how easily it had been to get by security and sneak inside this so-called ‘sealed fortress’, they would not be happy. All to her advantage, however, and for the FBI. Once Red was placed at auction, the task force would move in, all involved would be apprehended, and she could go home with her husband, where they would share the good news of her pregnancy – together.

Nothing would go wrong. It couldn’t. She wouldn’t allow it.

Yet that strange hint of something she couldn’t name, continued to gnaw at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Donald Ressler continued his attempts to reach Elizabeth, when he was contacted by Harold Cooper.

“Agent Ressler, have you heard from Elizabeth yet?”

A frustrating sigh. “No sir, I expect her any minute.”

“She's not answering her cell; this is against protocol.” Cooper stated with as much authority as he could muster. “And I can tell by the sound of your voice that you don’t think she’s coming, do you, Agent?”

“You think she’s gone rogue, sir? To protect Reddington?”

“My best guess, yes.”

Hearing the communication from another unmarked van, Agent Mojtabai weighed in. “I’ve tracked her phone Sir.”  
“And?”

Aram cleared his throat, knowing his boss would not like the answer. “She’s inside the mansion, Sir.”

A long pause ensued as Cooper inhaled deeply, then plotted his next move. “Breach only on my order, understood? For the moment, stand down.”

“Yes, sir.” Came the response from all involved.

Harold Cooper disconnected the call and clasped his hands on the desk before him. He knew that the Reddingtons were perfectly able to handle themselves, but he’d seen Elizabeth act irrationally before. She couldn’t help it: she was impulsive and often acted on instinct, sometimes to her disadvantage. But she loved her husband, and in a way, Cooper couldn’t blame her for going in rogue. When this was all over, and the Kings were in custody, he was going to have a long, heart-to-heart with her. And even though he loved Elizabeth like a daughter, he couldn’t help but think that this time, she’d put herself in a tenuous, dangerous situation. When Red discovered she’d disobeyed a direct order and had taken off on her own….

He didn’t want to think about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bright lights assailed Red as the hood was pulled off. He blinked several times, accustoming his eyes to the brightness. He didn’t have to be told where he was. The three figures who’d formed a semi-circle around him was his answer.

“Red, so nice of you to join us tonight. It’s been a long time.”

The automated, robotic voice of the wheelchair bound Earl King caused Red to conceal a tiny smile. Mission accomplished. He had the three of them in the room, all together for a reunion.

“I didn’t know I’d find you so….mobile, Earl.” Red raised a brow with cheeky sarcasm.

“Just a memento of our time together in Bolivia, Red. I get by, as you may well suspect.”

“It was just business.” Red pointed out as his sons trained their guns on him. “I told you that night to bet it all. You refused. A mistake.”

Earl pressed the artificial voice aid to his throat in order to be heard. “You knew I had millions invested; I couldn’t just walk away.”

Red couldn’t help but emit a throaty chuckle. “Poor choice of words, considering what those soldiers did to you.”

The bit of sweat that formed on Earl’s upper lip told Red that he’d hit the mark. “Well you know the saying: ‘pigs eat, hogs get slaughtered’.”

“You destroyed my business Red. After five generations of –”

“—Thievery, murder, slavery, hideous perversions. Yes Earl, let’s not forget human trafficking….very honorable ‘business’ indeed.”

“Funny. Of all people, you are preaching to me of my shortcomings, my business? I’ve built it all back up, despite what you did to me. I should think that being here, now, would urge some degree of fear from you, Red.”

“Should I be afraid?” Red goaded.

“Yes. You’re in my territory now. And your cocky behavior in showing up here tonight will be your ultimate downfall.”

Red didn’t take the bait, wanting only to pull this piece of human filth further into the abyss. “I find fear to be my most valuable sense.”

Earl moved his motorized chair closer to Red. “We’ll see what we can do about that tonight.”

Earl couldn’t possibly know that deep inside, Red was, indeed, experiencing bone chilling dread. Not fear of being part of the Kings’ hideous plan, but thoughts of Elizabeth were consuming him. Was she here? Would she be able to keep concealed until the task force moved in? What the hell was she thinking, taking a chance like this, pregnant, vulnerable? Anger, worry, love and pride warred within his heart, knowing that her love drove her to protect him. Him.

And then the silence in the cavernous room was broken by the appearance of a burly minion of Earl’s as he stepped up to Earl, holding an item that Red prayed wasn’t what he thought it was. 

Approaching Earl, the man whispered something, then handed the wheelchair bound man the item.

They knew.

Red held back a gasp, his face showed no emotion as his heart sunk. Clenching his fists, he blinked, holding on to his composure the way a drowning man clutches a life preserver for survival in shark-infested waters.

“Looks like I win tonight, Red.”

Holding up the crushed phone Red thought he’d destroyed earlier, Earl, exhibiting a malevolent smile, held it out to Red, the screen saver of Elizabeth's visage barely visible, but still recognizable. 

“She’s stunning, Red.”

In response, Red said nothing, yet inwardly, he seethed with rage that rose within him like a tidal wave.

“No use in denying she is special.” King gloated, while his sons chuckled silently.

“And I’m told she is here, in the servants quarters, disguised as one of the caterers. Brilliant idea, yet flawed as the cameras caught her entering the rest room. And it’s just a matter of time before my men find her. There are cameras everywhere, and I must admit, I look forward to meeting this beautiful creature. This just makes our event so much more festive – and more profitable, wouldn’t you say?”

Red swallowed hard, his skin crawled at the mention of his wife from the mouth of this savage. “My life for hers.”

“Oh, you will forfeit your life, after I put her on the block, but not before I force her to watch you die. One of our major buyers’ tonight is from Cambodia and looking for, may I say, females. I don’t have to tell you that your lady friend will bring quite a high price.” Earl bragged, pushing Red to the breaking point.

The only thing that kept Red from breaking free, risk being shot in order to annihilate Earl and the rest of these cretins, was the fact that his team was close by, and would be closing in soon. That didn’t reduce the rage that ate away at him at the mention of Elizabeth in danger at the hands of Earl and his ilk.

“And just in case you’ve planned on setting some sort of trap, I have dozens of guards in place. Your people will be slaughtered on sight, and that too, will be on you." Turning to a group of men who'd just entered the room, he gave a single demand. " Find the woman and fast. We have an auction to commence.”

He stared at Red. “After all, Red, time is money.”

“Let her go. It’s me you want.”

Earl laughed out loud, the sound a screeching static coming from the artificial voice box he pressed to his throat. “You know I can’t do that. I won’t. But just for the record, Red, is she worth it? Your life?”

With the knowledge that teams were close by, Red divulged his most intimate emotion, knowing, deep inside every fiber of his being, that this killer, this bringer of misery to dozens of innocents, would himself, be exterminated like a poisonous insect, and by Red’s own hand.

“Yes. She’s worth it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I must thank my dear friend, beta and brainstorming partner cress26, for help with this chapter, and this story. None of it is possible without her brilliant ideas and her invaluable help. Enjoy -- more to come.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth bids on Red, thinking that her plan to get them both out is working; what she doesn't know, is that Earl King has other plans - for both Red and Elizabeth.

Moments later, unaware of what was happening to her husband, who was closer than she realized, Elizabeth stepped into the main auction area.

Where are you, Red? She mused, feeling for her weapon in the deep pocket of her dress, making sure it was appropriately hidden. How she managed to keep from being searched, she couldn’t imagine, but, for now, all she wanted to do was to find Red, get this over with, and go home with her husband.

Making her way through the crowd of well dressed, wealthy buyers, Elizabeth had to keep from feeling dirty. These individuals, disguised as humans, were, basically the scum of the earth, and her one objective was to arrest every one of them personally, and lock them away in the deepest recesses of the earth. After tonight, hopefully, she, Red, and her team, would do just that.

Lost in thought, she noticed that silence had spread through the room. She turned to see a wheelchair bound man enter the area with two younger men: Earl, Francis and Tyler: The Kings.

She didn’t see Red, and a tinge of worry eased into her. She knew the task force would not breach until the specified time, and she surmised that Red was probably locked away somewhere in this hell hole. 

But where?

She didn’t have to wait long to learn the answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dembe and the rest of Red’s team stood at the ready, but not being able to know what was happening inside the Vicarage had them at a great disadvantage.  
Red’s right hand man and dear friend had found a hidden place with Baz, Morgan and the rest, concerned, but not ready to storm the mansion – yet. He would wait for the pre-arranged time to storm the mansion. He’d heard from Ressler that Elizabeth had never arrived at the arranged meeting place. Dembe didn’t have to be told that she was in that house. Yet why would she go against Red’s wishes? Elizabeth was, at times, impulsive, but always tenacious, especially when it came to the job – and to Red. Dembe knew how deeply they cherished each other; she simply didn’t want him playing decoy, without her assistance. If she was inside, along with Red, it stood to reason that the stakes were now considerably elevated.

Dembe had noticed that Red had been distracted lately, and hopefully, they would talk after this assignment was at its end. Earl and his crew were psychotically without conscience, and they needed to be put out of commission. He understood Red’s reasoning for wanting them caught, and imprisoned.

If anything happened to her, Red would be --- Dembe shook his head. It was unfathomable to think of a world without Elizabeth. He recited a silent prayer, asking God to watch over the two people in the world who were most important to him.

He took deep breaths then forced patience to flood his body and mind. Taking deep cleansing breaths, he glanced at his watch, and bided his time. Soon. Glancing at his watch, he knew the time was near. 

Soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Earl King sat between his sons, Tyler and Francis, at the head of the auction hall. Tyler handed his father a triangle and baton, whereupon Earl struck the instrument three times.

“It begins.” The elder announced, as the first ‘item’ made his way from a side door, escorted by a tall, husky goon with tattoos over his neck and hands, who appeared very out of place in a tuxedo.

Elizabeth stood transfixed as her husband was ushered onto a wide stage. It seemed the wheelchair bound Earl was determined to start the proceedings with a bang. She swallowed hard, tamping down her emotions, rage being most evident. She slowly, silently, made her way to the side of the stage, prepared to bid on her husband, and ready to win.

The master of ceremonies took the microphone and faced the crowd, a fake smile plastered on his botox filled lips and cheeks. “Good evening, one and all, and welcome to the Vicarage, where tonight, we have many surprises, prizes and priceless items which will thrill and please you all, I guarantee.”

Elizabeth found a spot to the left of Red. He hadn’t seen her yet, but he would soon. Taking a deep breath, she stood tall and still, reassured, expressionless, making sure all who saw her would know she was a high-society wealthy socialite, and nothing more.

“Our first prize of the night is someone who I’m sure many, if not, all of you, recognize. He is known as the ‘Concierge of Crime’ and to the highest bidder, he will go. “I give you – Raymond Reddington.”

The crowd applauded and murmured their delight and surprise amongst themselves. After the deal was sealed, Elizabeth needed to get them both out of here. Dembe, as well as Ressler and her team, wouldn’t wait much longer. Glancing at her diamond watch, she saw the time: 9:45. In about fifteen minutes, this place would be swarming with Red’s team, in addition to the task force. 

“The bidding will start at five million.” The MC stated. “Do I hear five million?”

A man in the center of the floor with a beret and a colorful tux raised his hand. “Five million for the concierge of crime!” He chuckled with a thick European accent.

Elizabeth paused, biding her time, knowing she had to outbid everyone involved in the auction, in order to ‘win’ Red. She looked around the room, and satisfied no one seemed to recognize or suspect she was not an invited guest, rested her eyes on her husband. 

How she adored this man, the father of her unborn child. Standing straight and strong, no sign of fear crossing his handsome features, she gained courage from him every moment that ticked by. How strange life is, she mused silently. When they’d first met, he was imprisoned within a thick plexiglass box. He’d stated he’d speak to one but her. From that momentous day, to now, how their lives had changed. From colleagues, to friends, to lovers…

Now married and expecting a child.

She had to get him – get the both of them – out of here, safely. 

“I have five – do I hear ten?”

“Ten million.” Came a call from two thirty-something women wearing sequins and tiaras, trailing their eyes down the length of Red, from head to toe, with lecherous expressions. 

On and on it went, until the bidding stalled at twenty-five million.

“I have twenty five once…..twenty five twice --- “

It was time. She cleared her throat, stood her ground and made certain her voice was strong and sure.

“Forty million!” She called out, while her heart pounded, hands trembled as she fought for composure.

And she succeeded….until Red turned and saw her.

Applause flooded the room. “Sold to the lovely lady in black, for forty million!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There she was. Elizabeth. His pregnant wife, who’d disobeyed every issue of protocol not only from Cooper, but from Red as well. Their eyes met, yet expression no emotion between them. He could swear his heart stopped, while he swallowed his terror. She didn’t know that the Kings knew she here, right in the center of the spider web. She didn’t realize that they had her dead to rights, so to speak, had them both, exactly where they wanted them. They’d kill her the moment they were both out of sight. The only saving grace right now would be the appearance of law enforcement. He had no intention of allowing law enforcement take the Kings prisoner.

He’d take care of them himself.

In the meantime, Red was taken from the room, and another man led Elizabeth out as well.

They were taken down a long stone corridor then descended flight of ancient stone stairs, where the air turned stale and dank, while the steps became steeper and more treacherous. Red knew what they were planning, and it wasn’t good.

No one spoke as they entered a cavernous, empty, dungeon-like area. 

“Wait here.” They were instructed, then left alone, the door closed and locked behind them.

Elizabeth wasted no time and stepped into Red’s arms. “Are you okay?” He returned her embrace, inhaling her familiar scent, wanting to hold onto her and never let go.

“Yes I am.” She answered, kissing him hard and quick.

“Are you sure?”

In answer, she leaned into him, and kissed him, deep and quick, her act of love nearly bringing him to his knees. But this was not the time, nor the place.

Abruptly, he ended their kiss and placed her at arms’ length. “What the hell are you doing here? Do you ever listen, Lizzie?”

Elizabeth’s eyes flew wide open. “I couldn’t let you come in alone, Red.” She said, breathlessly. “I just couldn’t. Our teams will be here any minute and the Kings will be apprehended. It’s all going according to plan.” She held onto his arms, surprised that he would scold her.

“They found your cell; they know who you are – to me!” He placed his palms on her face, as if to let his words sink in, let her know the gravity of the situation. “You promised me, Lizzie! You would steer clear of this hell hole! Why didn’t you listen? I didn’t want or need you here!”

She shook her head, her brows furrowed in confusion. “But how could they? They couldn’t possibly know me, Red. If they did, they would have stopped me before I got this far.”

“They allowed you to get this far because they will use us against each other! The auction was a sham. Those people were planted there to bid, leaving the door open so that you would outbid them all.”

As the gravity of the situation hit her, she found it hard to breathe; her lip quivered, and a lone tear escaped. 

“Well, well, isn’t this a lovely reunion.” The door swung open, with Earl entering, followed by his sons and two henchmen, all armed, all ready to witness Red’s downfall, once and for all.

“Let her go, Earl; there’s no need for dramatics; it’s me you want. Or how many times must I repeat myself?” Red stepped in front Elizabeth, shielding her in order to have the others focus on him. He dared a glance at his watch, and like clockwork, heard a slight commotion upstairs but remained focused on Earl. Come on Dembe, he silently prayed. They cannot be allowed to hurt Elizabeth.

“Take her.” Earl ordered, urging two of his men to grab her, making her face Red. 

“Now you will know what it’s like to hurt, Red. You took my legs, my fortune, my freedom. Now you will suffer.”

A gun was pointed at Elizabeth’s head. She sniffed back tears, stood straight and strong. “I love you.” She mouthed the words to her husband.

He nodded, then noticed the presence at the door to the dungeon.

Dembe. Baz. The FBI. Armed. Locked and loaded.

Chaos ensued; the situation escalated quickly and loudly. Dozens of footsteps, men’s voices giving orders, dense white smoke, gunshots, loud cries all followed. 

Everything after that seemed to materialize in slow motion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth managed to free herself from her captors, then reached for her gun, still hidden in the pocket of her dress.

She saw Tyler’s gun aimed squarely at Red, and wasting no time, discharged her weapon and managed to shoot him in the arm, but not before Francis turned and pointed his own gun. At her.

“Elizabeth!” 

Time slowed down as Red ran to his wife, who dropped to the ground, surrounded in black and silver, but now, tarnished by the red stain that was spreading under her arm.

Red knelt beside her, not caring if the world fell apart around him. His team surrounded him, while the FBI apprehended and shackled all involved. As the smoke cleared, Dembe yelled for medical aid, then joined Red’s side, keeping silent as his friend took his wife into his arms. 

Her body was limp as he cradled her. Dembe took Red’s hand and placed it over Elizabeth’s wound. “Help is on the way, Raymond; she is strong; she will survive.”

Red kept his eyes focused on his wife, leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Don’t leave me, Lizzie. Please….please….Don’t go.”

Seconds passed like hours as emergency personnel finally arrived. EMTs quickly applied an oxygen mask to Elizabeth, setting up IV and checked her vital signs. Red never let go of her hand as they lifted her onto the gurney. “Be careful.” He whispered. His throat felt as if filled with sand, tears choking him, his heart ripping at the seams. Nothing mattered, except the welfare of this woman who’d entered the belly of the beast without fear or any care for herself. She had done all this for him, and now, look at her.

Nothing would be worse than losing her: his life, his heart. His love.

Her skin was deathly pale, cool to the touch. As they left the mansion, Ressler, Navabi, along with Dembe and the rest of the team, surrounded Red and Elizabeth, making a barricade to protect them.

Would their child survive this trauma? He was out of his mind with worry for her.

“How much longer to the hospital?” He managed, sitting beside her in the ambulance, Dembe by his side.

“We’re here, Raymond.” Dembe announced, as the rear door of the ambulance was thrown open, revealing no less than half a dozen medical staff.

Dembe supported him as they were led through the hospital doors, down to the ER, where they shut Red out. “We will keep you posted.” A young man in a white coat approached Red. “Are you her husband?”

“Yes.”

“Is she allergic to any medication?”

“No.”

“Is there anything else we should know?”

Red looked up, eyes red and brimming with tears. “She’s pregnant. Help her.”

The doctor touched Red’s arm. “We’ll do our best.”

And then the doors closed behind him. His entire life was on the other side of that door.

How many times had he told himself he didn’t deserve a happy life, a life with her? Why had he allowed himself to fall in love with her, to accept her love in return, and then have the audacity to ask her to marry him?

This shouldn’t have happened. Why did he put himself in these situations, now that they were married? She didn’t even know that he knew she was pregnant, and now, he may lose them both.

Lose them both, because of who he’d chosen to be. Why didn’t he leave all this behind when they married? This was on him, all of it. If he didn’t walk into that mansion tonight, if he’d stayed home with his wife, this wouldn’t have happened.

If she’d only listened to him, and stayed with Ressler, safe and apart from him, they’d be on their way home now to their safe haven in Bethesda.

On the other side of those double doors, the other half of his heart was fighting for her life. Dembe approached, placing a supportive arm around an exhausted Red, who, as always, shouldered the responsibility and the blame, not to mention the guilt, of what happened tonight.

What was happening? Why wasn’t he receiving an update on Elizabeth’s condition?

God damn it, why hadn’t she stayed behind? What drove her to follow him where she didn’t belong? What was she thinking? How could she be so careless? Didn’t she realize that her actions could endanger herself and their child?

Questions. Questions with no answers continued to assail him as those doors remained closed. 

Just one more question remained, a question that could end in tragedy.

What would be the cost of her actions – their actions - tonight?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Red waits for word of Lizzie's injury, his mind reels with thoughts of who - and what - he was, and what their life would be now, after tragedy strikes close to home.

As his team and the task force stood vigil in an adjoining room, Red paced outside those damn white double doors, back and forth, up and down, awaiting word of his wife.

A terrifying ribbon of worry churned through him as time passed, with no appearance from any medical personnel. You must live, Lizzie, he screamed inwardly. Don’t leave me alone in this darkness where I cannot find you, he silently begged.

Playing the events of the evening back in his head for the hundredth time, the vision of Francis King injuring his wife stood out as a living nightmare in his mind.

He re-lived the moment of his beloved Lizzie, head thrown back, hand clutching her side, as she swayed to the ground like a swath of silk. 

And now, her fate hung in the balance as despaired gripped Red. He continued to pace, exhaustion holding him in its grasp until he looked up and saw Nik Korpal, followed by Dembe, step off the elevator and rush to Red’s side.

“I got here as soon as soon as I could.” The young, gray-haired physician explained, lightly touching Red’s arm in consolation. “Do you know anything?”

Red shook his head. “She’s still in there.” Was all he could manage.

Nik nodded. “I’ll take care of this, Red. Hang in there.”

Once again, Red found himself alone as Nik hurried to the double doors, pushed them open, and disappeared on the other side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just moments later, Nik exited the emergency room, accompanied by two doctors who shook his hand, then looked at Red, and re-entered the area where Elizabeth was being cared for. 

Red swallowed hard and steadied himself in place as he watched Nik face him. “She’s going to be okay.” He stated simply, with solid conviction, and quickly continued, as Red would want even the slightest detail. “The bullet missed a major artery.” He assured his friend. “She’s conscious.”

“The baby?”

Nik shook his head, then raised it to meet storm-gray, tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry. Her injury was traumatic, and in these early stages of pregnancy, Liz’s body was just not strong enough to sustain life. She can have more babies.” He touched Red’s hand in comfort. 

Red seemed to hear Nik’s words as if in a vacuum. Dembe, as usual, standing right beside his dear friend, grabbed his upper arm, and led him to a nearby chair. “She will recover, Raymond. You must sit and take a moment to rest.”

Red turned to face his friend. “No.” Red’s raspy, stress-filled voice was proof positive of his heartbreak. “No.”

Korpal nodded. “They’ve taken her to recovery. Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were men already stationed in front of Elizabeth’s room, standing straight and stoic as Red approached.

Chuck and Morgan, one on either side of the door, protecting her.

But there had been no protection for her this night. He hadn’t been able to protect her, whether she’d belonged in that damned mansion, or not.

Dembe opened the door to the private room, allowing Red to approach her bed, while he hung back and took a place outside the door, joining his team, while Red reunited with Elizabeth. His heart wept for his dear friends, and silently prayed for the most courageous woman he’d ever known.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing Red noticed were the tubes, so many tubes and machines, not to mention a heart monitor hidden beneath her hospital gown. Her face was pale and bruised, her hair wild and tangled, her slender hands resting at her sides atop the stark cotton sheet.

Her eyes were open, but they did not turn and acknowledge him. Her head was turned away from him, staring out the large window, unblinking as if looking into nothingness, searching for…something. Her expression was one of blank, jarring sadness, and Red began to shatter as his eyes never left her.

Throwing off his jacket, he reached her, perching on the edge of her bed. 

“Lizzie….Lizzie, I’m here.”

No response.

He reached for her hand and gently squeezed. “Look at me, please, Lizzie…..”

She didn’t turn, didn’t squeeze back. Her hand lay limp, rested inside his. 

He didn’t know how long he sat by her side. She barely moved; her tiny breaths were the only proof that she lived.

He lifted her hand and held her palm to his cheek, then lowered his head to her ear. “You’re going to be okay do you hear me? It’s going to be okay.”

She didn’t speak, didn’t move, just stared out that window.

“As soon as you’re well, we’ll go away, wherever you’d like to go.” He knew his words held no meaning for her at this point. He just wanted to keep talking to her, letting her know he was there, that he loved her, loved her to Hell and back. 

“I’m going to take you home as soon as you’re able to travel, maybe tomorrow. This place is cold and stark. I need you to be with me, in our bedroom, in our house, far away from here.”

He just rambled, said the first things that came to mind. Maybe something would spark her to speak to him, yell, rant, sob, cry; anything, to bring her back.

Come on Lizzie, talk to me, he sighed inwardly. Hit me, tell me it’s all my fault. But I already know that. You should have never been there tonight! Why the hell were you there?! What were you thinking? Going in there, pregnant, armed and ready for battle?!

His silent musings gave him no answers. Both were to blame, and neither of them were to blame. 

Or were they?

He didn’t know how long he sat there. Hours? Moments? Seconds? Time melted into emptiness. 

Red was at a loss for words. Nurses and doctors filed in and out, checking her vitals. Dembe came in, informing Red that a room in their house was all set up for her care, and still, he too, said nothing. He just nodded to let Dembe know he understood. Yes, he had to get her home. 

Home.

She finally fell asleep, and he rested his cheek beside hers, nuzzling her warmth, craving her response, but none came. “Rest, sweetheart. I love you.” 

He kissed her, softly, tenderly, then wearily, on shaky legs, left the room, where Aram, Cooper, Ressler and Novabi waited, lifted their concerned eyes to him.

Dembe. “How is she?”

Red’s eyes filled with unshed tears. Bits of his heart began to fall away into a pool of oblivion. “She’ll be fine.” He cleared his throat. “The moment she’s able to be moved, I want her home.”

Dembe nodded. “Go home, Raymond; take a shower, sleep; I will not leave her.”

Red swayed from exhaustion; Aram caught him. “Please, Mr. Reddington. We’ll stay with Liz, and call you the second she wakes up. Okay?”

“No.”

“Do you want Elizabeth to see you like this?” It was Harold.

Red stared at his friend but said nothing.

“You know what will happen to you once your adrenalin drops: you’ll weaken, and then, what good will you be to her, eh? I’m here.” He gestured with his arm. “We are all here. Go home, if only for an hour; shave and change your clothes; she’ll need you strong and fresh when you return. Can you do that for her, Red?”

His eyes closed tightly. He was beginning to grow lightheaded. He’d go home, gather her own clothes; he wanted her home where she could be cared for, privately, with his own private physicians and medical personnel close by, attending to her needs, day and night.

After long moments, he nodded. Dembe hugged him, turned and entered Elizabeth’s room, while Baz drove Red home.

Red sat in the back seat, staring blankly out the window. He hated going home without her, yet he needed to shed his tuxedo, gather her own nightclothes, turn around and return to the hospital.

All the way home to Bethesda, his mind was consumed with thoughts of his Lizzie, and the child they had lost. Their love had sustained more than any two people deserved. Falling in love with her was easy; being her partner in work and play was a reality, a happiness he didn’t think he deserved. But they’d endured: friendship and working, danger, deception and yes, courage. Hard then soft, she’d always been stronger than she gave herself credit for.

And now they’d shared loss.

He had to get back to her. Had to stay with her, hold her until she spoke to him. He needed her more than the air in his lungs, loved her with an unquenchable passion that would sustain him until his death. He lived for her, he’d always been prepared to die for her, yet he never, ever, wanted her to die for him…ever.

They would gain back what they’d lost. They would, he was sure of it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving home, Baz opened the car door and assisted him from the vehicle. “I won’t be long.”

The tall man with the silver ponytail and stern demeanor nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Thank you, Baz.”

Closing the front door behind him, Red took a moment and simply stood at the entrance to his home – their home. Holding back unshed a myriad of emotions, his weary eyes shut tight at the lingering, familiar scent of their home, of her. 

Her perfume hung in the air like tiny butterflies on the wing. Evidence of her presence surrounded him. Her large tote bag, slumped over by a round table in the entranceway, several manila folders containing cases she was working on, some coins and a few dollar bills strewn about.

He ripped off his tie and opened the top three buttons of his starched white tuxedo shirt, then ventured into the entrance of the dining area to get a drink.

And stopped dead in his tracks.

The scene before him nearly knocked him to the ground.

Balloons: pink and blue, dozens of them, weighted down and propped on the mahogany dining table, beside a box of fine cigars.

And in the center of it all, a framed photo.

The sonogram.

His child.

Their child… now lost.

He slowly made his way to the table, lifted the black and white photo with trembling fingers, focused on the tiny blip that was no more, then lowered his forehead in order to touch the paper. 

Falling to his knees, he cradled the tiny bit of paper to his heart.

His chest heaved as haunting, soul-wrenching sobs echoed within the emptiness of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth survives, and Red exacts revenge.

Clawing her way to the surface of consciousness, Elizabeth moaned as the pain of her nightmare continued. Wake up, she demanded her body. This is all a bad dream, a nightmare.

Open your eyes, her brain boomed. Open your eyes and you’ll see that you’re in your beautiful, king-sized bed, lying beside your beautiful husband, in your beautiful home.

A tear slid down her cheek from her exertion to awaken, yet her body disobeyed. She felt drugged, weighed down. 

She dreamed that she’d been injured, attacked, shot. Red had been there, helpless to get to her in time. 

Her baby!

“No no no no.” Her throat was sore, tears choked her as the realization of it all came to the fore.

If I don’t open my eyes, it will stay a bad dream. Yes, that’s it.

It hurt to move her arm, but she struggled to slide her palm down the length of her torso, to her stomach.

If I don’t open my eyes, it means I’m still dreaming, and it won’t be true.

Yet, without knowing, without touching the center of her body, she knew.

This was real.

And she was in big trouble.

“Red….” She moaned, then dared to open her eyes.

Even through the tears, she saw him, sitting on a chair, beside her.

Suddenly he was on the bed, cradling her head in his hands. “I’m here, sweetheart…I’m here.”

She didn’t have to ask to know. She could read it all in that beloved face, in those expression-filled eyes, now shrouded in despair and sadness.

His forehead touched her own. “I’m sorry, Lizzie…I’m so sorry.”

She reached up to grab his wrists and held on for dear life. 

And together, they cried for the loss of their child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Red held her for long, moments, savoring her warmth, her hold on him, and her even breathing, the silky softness of her hair touching his face. He’d consoled her softly as she began to settle and fall asleep.

She was alive, they were together; they’d survived, both of them.  
Yet, their child had not.

A life unborn, unlived, was gone forever.

She finally fell asleep in his arms and he settled her back on the pillow, allowing himself to gaze at her, making sure that she took a breath – then another, and another.

Suddenly, he needed air, was desperate to leave here and go – anywhere.

But there was something he had to do first.

Take care of business.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Placing a soft kiss on her brow, he nuzzled her nose. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. I love you.”

Grabbing his coat and hat, he stepped from her room, where Dembe awaited him.

“Where are they?” Red inquired as he shrugged into his outer coat, then affixed his hat, finally allowing rage to flood his body like venom, along with an acute desire for revenge.

As they headed for the elevator, Dembe answered in an even, low tone. “Secure.”

Red nodded, as they exited the hospital and entered the Mercedes.

All business would be completed today.

Then he could go about the business of helping his wife recover. Then he’d take her away on a long trip – time was no object: they’d stay away until she was well – and both of them were on the road to recovery.

Even as he formed the words, he knew recovery was not possible – at least not yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Less than an hour later, Dembe pulled into an abandoned house, run down from years of neglect. Both he and Red stepped from the vehicle, then entered the rickety building.

Red ignored the smells of rotting wood, a wide, cracked foundation and the squeaking of unseen vermin. His mission was clear, remorseless.

Entering the dimness of the dank, depressing area, lit only by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, Red came upon the three figures who would lift the imaginary weight from his heart.

Held at gunpoint by Baz, shackled, and positioned in a semi-circle, were Francis, Tyler and Earl King.

With a nod to Red, Baz left the room, along with Dembe, leaving the Kings alone with the one man who would exact vengeance for what had befallen his beloved wife.

All three looked up at Red, who took a step back from the group to settle into a chair. He wasted no time.

“I live in a world with no rules, no laws and certainly, no order.” He began.

It was Earl who spoke for himself, and his sons. “No need for all this drama, Red. Just get on with it.”

Inhaling deeply, lifting his chin toward Earl, he sneered. “Indeed. And since this is not about me, I’ll just attend to Francis first, if you don’t mind.”

The elder brother blinked nervously, his hands trembling within the bonds as Red’s eyes targeted him. “It was you we wanted, Reddington.” His voice shook with artificial bravado. “The girl got in the way. So, you got us now and you survived. I don’t understand all this pomp.”

Red swallowed, concealing his white-hot anger like a lion hiding in the brush, waiting for its prey. “You will, and since you wont live to tell the tale, I’ll gladly answer your question. The ‘girl’ you mentioned, is someone I care deeply about.” Steadying himself toward the wrath he held in check, Red continued, his voice, low and menacing.

Tyler interrupted, his voice choked with tears from the terror he experienced. “It was business – “

From a hidden holster at his back, Red pulled out his Browning hi-power and shot Tyler point blank. Death was instantaneous and more merciful than he deserved.

“Now, what was it we were saying?” Red didn’t miss a beat, as the remaining two men were struck dumb with cold, terrifying fear. “Oh yes, Francis, I was saying….you had the audacity to shoot that ‘girl’ in cold blood. She is a highly renowned FBI agent. Her name is Elizabeth Reddington.

“She’s my wife.”

As Francis realized what was going to happen to him, he peed himself, and as Red pointed the gun and shot twice, Earl gave out a hollow cry.

Again, Red remained composed, pointed the gun at Earl and allowed a cynical smile. “I’m a violent man, Earl; you certainly know that. I hurt people. This is the life I’ve chosen. You chose to corner and target my wife when you already had me. A little selfish of you, don’t you think? You would have auctioned her off to the highest bidder: to some vile, perverted cretin who would have used her like a ‘thing’, instead of the precious creature she is. I may bring death to some, but never one who didn’t deserve my wrath.”

Before Earl could respond, Red pursed his lips, lifted his weapon, and shot the elder King three times, in the heart. He didn’t mention Elizabeth’s pregnancy to the men responsible for nearly killing him and his wife. The subject was just too much to divulge; too intimate to voice, too personal to share with anyone, much less these three.

As he rose from the chair and slid his gun back in place, Dembe entered the room. “Call Mr. Kaplan.” Red directed as his cherished associate nodded in understanding. 

Dembe lifted his cell from a pocket and contacted Red’s cleaner and dear friend, Kate Kaplan, who declared that her mission would be completed within the hour. 

Before Red and Dembe left the building, Red took one last look at the three men he’d just purged from his life.

And felt nothing.

Killing these three didn’t help cleanse him of his rage and revenge.

Was there anything remaining that would eradicate the sins from his soul?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

On the drive back to the hospital, Dembe’s phone buzzed.

“It’s Mr. Cooper.” He announced to Red, handing him the cell.

“Harold.” Red greeted, his voice never hinting at what he’d just done. “I’m just on my way to Elizabeth. Are you at the hospital visiting her?”

“I’ll be there later today. Where are they, Red?”

“Where are who?”

“Stop playing games. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“I really don’t.” Red heard the frustrating anger in Cooper’s voice.

“I don’t want to know how you removed them from my custody, I just want to know where they are, and what you did to them.”

Red didn’t hesitate. “That won’t be necessary, Harold. Once again, let’s just say, I cleaned up a mess, and saved the taxpayers millions. You can thank me later."

And with that parting word, and not giving Cooper a chance at rebuttal, Red disconnected the call, as Dembe made his way to the hospital.

And to Elizabeth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As luck would have it, Dr. Nik Korpal was speaking with Elizabeth when Red entered the room.

Removing his coat and hat, he hurried to Elizabeth’s side. She was sitting up, propped against pillows, leaning forward and holding out her arms to her husband.

As he held her, cherished her warmth against his body, his eyes closed against the joy he experienced, silently grateful that she was gaining strength. He began to kiss her lightly on the cheek, eyes and chin. “You look better, stronger, sweetheart.”

He leaned away from her but didn’t break his hold on her as she searched his weary gaze. “I want to go home.”

Red turned to Nik for affirmation. “Yes, you can take her any time today. She’ll need an ambulette for transport –”

“I’ll take care of all that, Nik. Thank you.”

Happiness replaced the rage that had found a place in his heart earlier in the day, as they shared a smile. She grabbed Red’s hand, squeezing it, then looked into his eyes. She didn’t have to be told that whatever reason he had for not being here earlier, it was all part of what and who her husband was. 

There would be no prison, nor trial and execution for the Kings.

Elizabeth knew that her husband took care of business this day. She’d chosen to live this life with him, with Raymond Reddington. He was a man who lived his life full measure. She adored him, couldn’t help it, couldn't stop it. She was so deeply in love with this man, she ached for him, needed him as much as he needed her. They were part of each other, one living for the other. And yes, they’d die for the other, as evidenced the night before.

They would talk later. At home.

“Lizzie? What are you thinking?”

She came out of her silent reverie and looked into the eyes of a man who she’d known as a complete dichotomy. A loving, giving, sexual being who could also be hard, cold and completely ruthless.

A criminal. A husband. A man, just a man.

She she leaned forward and kissed him, quickly, but deeply. "Home, that's all. Just to be with you at home."

He nodded, kissed her again, savored the touch of her arms around his shoulders as he gently embraced her. She was life. His life, his north star. “Today, sweetheart. I’ll take you home today.”

They didn’t mention the loss of their child, but no doubt, they would grieve in the privacy of their bedroom, where they could hold on to each other, cry with the other, wipe each other’s tears away.

Then, he would take her away, to points unknown.

And there, they would begin to heal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Elizabeth go home to Bethesda, yet words are hard to find. Blame, guilt and pain engulf them, until their conversation creates a gap in their marriage.

As promised, Red delivered Elizabeth to their Bethesda home, weak, tired, but grateful.

As Red opened the front door, she leaned on his strength to get her inside the house, away from the antiseptic smells and clinical colorless hospital atmosphere.

She was home. They were home.

She sniffed back grieving tears and allowed a tiny smile to grace her lips.

“I had the downstairs guest suite turned into a temporary bedroom for us until you could make it upstairs, sweetheart.” He whispered to her as they stood in the vestibule to the entrance of the living area.

“That’s fine. Thank you.” She cherished his lips as they grazed her cheek.

“Let’s get you settled in, then we’ll get you something to eat, and –”

And that’s when her eyes bored into the dining room.

The balloons were gone, as well as the sonogram and cigars.

She turned to her husband as unshed tears caught in her throat. “What did you do with - everything?”

Red reached her quickly, took her arm. “I put the sonogram and cigars away. The balloons are gone.” Pain seared his voice while his heart, once again, reminded her of their loss.

Elizabeth was too weak to respond. She merely nodded and allowed Red to settle her into the rather airy, bright guest suite. Cashmere blankets in ocean blue and lemon yellow covered the king-sized bed, fresh cut blush roses and snow-white baby’s breath filled an enormous vase near the sliding glass, allowing a gentle floral scene to drift through the room.

He was trying so hard to make things easy for her, Elizabeth thought. But he was suffering as deeply as she. They needed to talk. But not yet. Not yet.

Red helped her change into a comfortable pair of ivory silk pajamas, brushed her hair until it shone, making her tired. All she wanted to do was sleep.

“Do you need anything? What can I do?” He caressed her cheek, kissing her tenderly, suddenly not sure how to act in the wake of their loss. 

When he rose from the bed and turned, she called softly. “Where are you going?”

He ran his hand over his scalp, his composure crumbling like bits of broken glass. “A cup of chamomile, perhaps?” Was all he managed to say.

“No, Red. I don’t want tea. I just want you. Please hold me.”

She noticed a moment’s hesitation before he perched next to her, tenderly embracing her until her body went limp with exhaustion.

Red looked back as sleep enveloped her. What if they could stay like this forever? What if what happened was a bad dream, and soon, they’d both awaken to find none of it had happened? But it had happened, and the more they avoided conversation, the more it would fester like an open wound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth woke up hours later, restless, fitful. The room was dark. How long had she dozed? She turned to find Red’s side of the bed vacant, sliding her hand over the cool sheets, wondering where he could be.

She found medication and a glass of water on the bedside table. Sitting up, she swallowed the pills. Still weak and achy, she managed to rise from the bed, and set out to find him. 

Padding barefoot across the carpeted hall across from the guest room, she followed the sound of soft jazz until she approached his office. She spied a slice of light under the closed door, Elizabeth knocked softly, but didn’t wait to be allowed entry.

It was obvious he’d avoided her. She’d fallen asleep in his strong arms, but he must have left their bed as she slumbered.

He was sitting in a large club chair, nursing a scotch, eyes closed, when she entered the room.

“Red?”

It was as if he’d been a thousand miles away. He nearly jumped when he spied her standing at the entrance of his office. “Lizzie!”

He rushed to her side, took her arm and steadied her. “What are you doing out of bed, sweetheart?”

“A better question is, why aren’t you in bed with me?”

He didn’t blink but led her to a brown leather love seat, settled her in, then sat opposite her. “I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to disturb you. You need your rest.”

Elizabeth sat straight up, swallowing tears that she fought all day, since they’d arrived home. “Do you know what I need, Red? I need for us to stop dancing around each other and talk about what happened.”

“No.”

“No?” She shook her head, watching him take sip after sip of the amber liquid. When he rose to re-fill his glass, she grabbed at it, and drained the several drops at the bottom. She knew down deep that it wouldn’t help, but she was gearing up the courage to confront him. “Talk to me.”

Red stood, began pacing the room, and Elizabeth knew exactly what that meant. He was torn between anger and diplomacy; between who he was and what he was – to her. He paced back to her, dug his hands deep inside his pockets while his brows furrowed, and his mouth formed a straight line of pained angst.

“What were you thinking?”

Elizabeth wanted to talk, and she knew this would become the crux of the conversation. “I was thinking that you were alone; I needed to be with you, to support you – to be there for you.”

He completely ignored her answer. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were pregnant?”

Her husband was attacking her; he’d blindsided her with his questions, instead of talking rationally about it. “Did you think I knew I was going to be shot?! I set up the balloons and the sonogram so that we could share the good news together when the case was over. I didn’t think – “

His eyes widened but he never raised his voice, yet his steady low tone told her that he was filled with a myriad of emotions. “How many times have we agreed that as long as we worked together, you were to stay on the sidelines until an arrest was imminent? You’re a capable, competent agent, and I’m your biggest supporter, but Lizzie, you could have been killed.”

She knew now, what he was doing. He wasn’t angry: he was scared to death that she might been killed. “I needed to protect you, to be there for you. I couldn’t bear to live my life if I lost you.”

He took one step toward her but thought otherwise. No, she wasn’t going to justify risking her life, then confuse it with love and protection. “I can take care of myself. I always have and always will. I didn’t need you there, following me. And now look what’s happened!”

Now his voice raised an octave as she stood toe to toe with him. “You’re not the only one who lost a child!” She didn’t touch him, afraid that she would give in and let him take the blame. Her guilt was already eating her up like a cancer. “If you didn’t take this case, didn’t go in alone, maybe…maybe things….would have been different.”

She regretted the words the moment they fell from her lips. He turned from her and stepped to the window. “Red I’m sorry. I know I’m to blame. I was cocky enough to think I could con my way into the vicarage and save the day with my gun and dagger. I know I should have let you take care of it all, but damn it, Red, you could have let this one go. We would have apprehended the Kings next time around. That’s why I didn’t tell you about the baby. I was afraid it would distract you once you surrendered to the Kings.”

He turned to face her, her lovely visage so pale and tired. He hated himself for having this conversation with her so soon after the miscarriage. He was supposed to be a sin-eater, her protector. He should have kept her secure. Instead, he was powerless to do so as she was shot and nearly killed.

“Please go back to bed.” He told her, simply, calmly. 

She was suddenly drained of what little energy she possessed, wordlessly agreed with him, wanting only wanted to sleep. 

Elizabeth allowed Red to put her to bed, where he covered her with the soft cashmere blankets. She grabbed his hand as he rose to leave the room. “Where are you going?”

He shook his head. “I need some air, need to clear my head. I’ll be back soon. The house is well protected.”

She didn’t care that the house was guarded like Fort Knox, her expression was questioning, concern veiling her lovely features. “I don’t care about being protected; I care about you. Please, come to bed.”

The moment she said the words, she knew he wouldn’t hear her, not really. He merely shook his head. 

As she heard the front door close with a final click, tears engulfed her. What had they done? Was the sudden chasm that had opened tonight too wide to mend? This would be the first night of their married life that they hadn’t fallen asleep in each other’s arms. She missed his touch already: The scent of his spicy aftershave, the feel of his smooth, freshly shaven skin under her fingers. She missed the sheer strength of his solid muscular body, strong hands, so gentle when he caressed and loved her. Those stormy gray eyes of his, able to express a dozen emotions with one look.

She’d only wanted to support and protect him; he’d only desired her safety by keeping her away. He’d voiced his thoughts and beliefs regarding her involvement in dangerous cases before they married. She’d argued that she was more than able to take care of herself.

Elizabeth loved him more than breath, more than air; didn’t care who or what he was. He was Raymond Reddington, her husband. 

One side of the coin found him to be dangerous, ruthless, remorseless, hard and cold. Yet on the other side, there was kindness, goodness, sensual as well as sexual; a man who loved with his entire being, willing to give his life for her in the blink of an eye. 

But this Red who’d just walked out on her? Hurt, wounded, angry – confused?

Did this man not know how to handle their situation? 

Grabbing the sonogram from the bedside table, she kissed it tenderly, then fell asleep crying with the simple sheet of paper pressed against her heart.

Surely, when he returned, they would work all this out.

“Come back to me, Red.” She murmured as the veil of slumber took her to the edge of oblivion.

What if he didn’t come back?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red walked to his car as though in a fog. He didn’t know where he was going, he just had to get away for a bit.

Anger gripped him along with an unseen fear that he’d nearly lost her. He’d come this close to having not only a lost pregnancy but a murdered wife. Red couldn’t wrap his head around it all. For the first time in his life, he felt lost, without motivation, without direction. He’d been used to living and traveling and doing business his way for thirty years, but tonight, now, loneliness gripped him, and he ached for normalcy once more. Elizabeth was part of him, like his skin and flesh, blood and bones. 

She’d not only failed to follow protocol with the task force, but she’d disregarded the agreement she and Red has put in place when they married. Why? Hadn’t she understood the scope of this mission?

He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her; he would cease to live if he lost her. The longer she was with him, the more danger could befall her. He couldn’t ask or demand that she stop being an agent; he’d never do that. He didn’t have the right. She was a brilliant profiler; a fine FBI agent and the most courageous woman he’d ever known.

He drove until he found himself in front of Dom Wilkerson’s small home.

He’d moved closer to Elizabeth and Red after they married to be closer to his granddaughter.

Red stepped from the car and knew even at this late hour, Dom would be awake. The older man rarely slept, usually playing the piano or reading one of his Russian novels.

Before he could knock on the front door, he watched as the portal flung open. There stood a stoic, unsmiling Dom, as always, seldom happy to see Red.

“What the hell are you doing here? Is my granddaughter well? What do you want at this hour, Red?”

Red kept his silence, until Dom opened the door wider, in order to let Red inside.

Dom walked toward the cluttered, small living room, where Red opted to stand before the fireplace. Elizabeth’s maternal grandfather poured a shot of single malt scotch for Red. “You look like hell. Here, you could use this.”

Always a man who knew Red almost as well as Elizabeth did, Red took the glass, swallowed the amber liquid in one gulp, welcoming the burning trail of alcohol as it slid down his throat.

Dom opted not to drink; instead, he sat on his recliner and clasped hands, staring at Red, his expression nothing less than accusatory. “What have you done now?”

“What makes you think I’ve done anything?”

“Don’t answer a question with a question. I’m not one of your FBI cronies. Where’s my granddaughter and why aren’t you in bed, sleeping beside that sweet girl?”

Red exhaled deeply. “We were on a case….”

Dom slid to the edge of his chair. “Is she alright? Can’t you manage to answer one god damned question?”

Red knew what was coming, and he deserved it. “Elizabeth was shot, but she is recovering at home. She’s going to be alright, Dom.”

“I feel a ‘but’ in there.”

Leave it to Dom to know everything. “She was pregnant Dom. We lost the baby.”

Dom nearly jumped out of the chair. “You son of a bitch!”

As Dom continued to rant, Red closed his eyes and absorbed the old man’s wrath. Yes, maybe he came here to be judged, to have the blame placed squarely on his shoulders. It was because of him that she’d been injured, that their baby was gone.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

Red shook his head. “No.”

“Then go home to your wife and get out of this game before it consumes you both. You will lose her if you don’t quit, Red. Mark my words.”

“I came here because….”

And then Red couldn’t manage to form the words in his head. He’d come here for what? Redemption? No, he didn’t deserve to be forgiven.

Elizabeth shouldn’t have been where she wasn’t needed or wanted.

Who was he blaming now? Himself? Or his wife?

As he contemplated what, or where to go next, he realized going home would mean facing her, blaming her, taking on the guilt himself. Between them both, their loss seemed immeasurable, unfathomable.

Dom promised to visit Elizabeth tomorrow, and Red just nodded in agreement.

He drove the car back home, but just sat behind the steering wheel. 

For the first time since meeting Elizabeth, he couldn’t bear to be alone with her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, my thanks to cress26 for her invaluable assistance with this story; she is always present when brainstorming is sorely needed.
> 
> And thank all of you for continuing to read on, regardless of the deep angst that Red and Elizabeth are going through. I promise it will all be worth it in the end.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red and Liz grieve separately, and finally, mutually, come to a decision that will impact both their lives - forever.

Elizabeth watched him from the window in the guest room. He was sitting in the car, obviously making no attempt to step out and back into the house – back to her.

Tears choked her again, as grief began anew in the hollow of her heart. She placed her palm to her chest in an attempt to lessen the agony; yet all she managed to do was measure the distance to his car, mere yards from her. It felt like a million miles for all intents and purposes. 

Should she go out there and get him? Or leave him be and let him come back in his own time?

There were two of them in that house, both had made decisions to embark on that dangerous mission, albeit, she’d made her choice without consulting him.

Burying her face in her hands, she shook her head, wrapping her brain around everything that had led up to the loss of their child.

If Red hadn’t chosen to play decoy and gone in alone, albeit with back up tracking him, all this wouldn’t have happened. Why hadn’t he allowed the FBI to go in undercover to trap and apprehend the Kings?

Because, she mused, that was what he did. He was the mastermind of the blacklist and all its ilk, so to speak. He knew apprehending the Kings would be a boon for the task force, and in the meantime, dispose of a mortal, dangerous enemy, Earl King.

Elizabeth slid back into bed, propped herself onto several fluffy pillows, and decided to wait for her husband.

How she missed the sight of him as he strode into a room, smiling, usually throwing her a teasing wink and that dazzling smile of his. He’d lean over and share a soul-shattering kiss that usually led to a night of passion-filled lovemaking. Then they’d cuddle in each other’s arms and discuss the events of the day.

She’d always fall asleep first, because she knew her man. He would wait until she dozed until he decided the house, and all around them, was safe enough; then, and only then, would he allow himself the sweet peace of sleep.

A chilly shudder swept through her, because in some part of her, she knew that may not happen again for a long time - if ever.

A part of them, a tiny piece of something they’d created out of love, their love, was gone forever. 

Would they ever be able to forgive each other? Would guilt and blame ever be forgiven? Was it possible to mend this open, gaping wound they’d both created?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the corner of his eye, Red spied the open light coming from the guest room. Elizabeth was awake, and waiting for him, no doubt.

Yet, he couldn’t go home, couldn’t face her – or himself.

The pain in his chest deepened to encompass his entire being, and he needed to ease that anguish, any way he could.

Turning on the car engine once more, he pulled out of the driveway, with a singular thought in mind.

He needed relief – ease and serenity – in a manner to be shared by no one.

He pulled his cell from his inner jacket pocket, made a quick call, leaving strict instructions, brooking no refusal. Then, inhaling deeply and swallowing tears, he turned toward the highway, and headed for Chinatown.

He needed to forget, if only for a short while.

Hours later, he parked in an underground garage, then headed toward Pell Street. Approaching a metal gated door, he rang the rusted black bell until a tiny, unassuming Asian woman appeared. Because of her height, she barely reached the gate opening, then bowed and slid open the enclosure.

“Mr. Red, we’ve been waiting. Your room is prepared for you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Lee. Please bring me all I requested, then, leave me be.”

“I’ll come get you in the morning, Mr. Red.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

"No, Mr. Red. You must go, tomorrow."

Knowing she was just looking out for him, he nodded, watching the old, wrinkled woman as she bowed, then led him across a dark hall, down a narrow flight of stone stairs, and into a sparse corner chamber that held a small bed, and a rickety wood table holding a short, fat candle. The room smelled of mildew and stale smoke. He threw his coat onto a nearby worn, upholstered chair. Sparse items, indeed. He needed nothing more.

After placing his keys, money clip and cell on the table, Red shrugged off his shoes, pulled his white silk shirt from his slacks, and removed his belt, tossing them on the chair.

Within moments, a young man knocked, entered the room and delivered all the items Red had requested, bowed to Red, then left in silence.

Red looked down at his gold wedding band, inhaled a shaky breath. He’d never stop loving her, no matter what. He’d never stop wanting her, needing her. But right now, his need to be alone with his grief overruled all else.

He bolted the door, locking the world out, lit the fat candle on the ancient table, grabbed the drug paraphernalia and moved to the bed, anxious to find oblivion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the effects of the opium began to work its magic, Red closed his eyes, determined to block out all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Anguish overwhelmed him as love for Elizabeth, coupled with his guilt for causing her injury, was beginning to drive him insane.

Because of him, he’d almost lost her – forever.

Because of him, she’d blamed herself – and him.

He must, never, ever allow himself to put her at risk again.

Within minutes, a euphoric cloud swirled inside his head, causing his body to become weightless while his brain released endorphins of ecstasy and serenity.

Magnificent, erotic visions formed within his drug-induced dream and he saw her: 

~~~~~She lay in a soft field of grass, her naked body warmed by the sun, surrounded by riots of flowers in colors of gold and red. He came upon her, and she smiled, holding out her arms to him in invitation, and he went to her, willingly.

She was full of life and warmth, her body lush and full, bringing him to full and aching arousal. His nudity fueled his lust for her when she spread herself for him, inviting him to enjoy all she had to offer.

He knelt between her open thighs, throwing his head back as she gripped his hard length, crying out his pleasure as she guided him toward her wet heat.

Summer breezes blew over them as his large hands encircled her hips. She was soft and willing, and the scent of her drove him mad. She writhed as he moved inside her slippery channel, stretching her to the hilt as he did so.

Her long dark waves spread across the green grass when he began to move within her. Throwing her head back, her breasts jutted forward, allowing him to suckle and gently bite those pebbled crests. Those twin globes were round and perfect, prompting his fingers to caress and fondle as her low moans drove him forward, harder, deeper….hotter. His body propelled them to a place beyond unimaginable pleasure.

She rose her hips and legs higher, and he couldn’t get enough of her. His body pushed and pulled from her, as she bit her lip and begged him for more. 

She was close; he could feel the stillness of her flesh tingle with the beginning of her orgasm. Once more he grabbed her hips, lifting her closer to his unending need, his mesmerizing need for her. 

She was exquisite: Sapphire blue eyes gazed upon him, glazed over with her oncoming climax, her hair disheveled and magnificent. Her body rocked in synch with his, as pure rapture held him them both in its grip. His powerful climax stunned her, her cries of ecstasy silenced by his kiss.

She threw her arms around his back, holding tight as he exploded inside her, like stars breaking apart~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red awakened slowly, his body aroused, covered in sweat from his drug-induced vision of Elizabeth. Sliding his palm down the length of his body, he found himself so hard, he ached from the sensation.

And all he wanted, was more: more opium, more dreams, more Elizabeth.

He rose and stripped the remainder of his clothing, indulged himself to more of the hallucinogenic, then brought himself to completion, all while his mind circled and entwined itself inside his drug-induced visions.

Lying back on the small, flat pillow, he closed his eyes once more, and once again, welcomed sweet oblivion………………

~~~~~~She returned to him once more, but now they stood face to face, naked, while a light mist beaded their bodies. She smiled at him, touching herself while he watched, his cock so hard, he had to widen his stance to ease the ache between his legs. 

She was a sexy siren, enticing him, seducing him, while she used her finger to circle her dark, hardened nipples. He swallowed hard, enjoying every second of her performance. Stepping back a bit, he licked his lips, watching her, wanting her….loving her.

She fell to her knees, hands gripping him, taking him in her mouth. He held her steady, while relishing the heat of her lips on his length. She teased his tight, smooth crown, until a bead of his essence appeared. Her lips squeezed and suckled, until she consumed all of him, bringing him unimaginable bliss like he’d never known. 

He lifted her then, his kisses devouring, crushing her mouth, tasting himself on her lips. They floated back to those fields of green with the sunlight warming them. He tasted her, sampled her beauty from head to toe. She was a bewitching goddess, a seductive vixen, and he took all she offered, gladly, willingly.

Love filled every pore of his body, his soul, as he kissed his way down her flat tummy, nipping, teasing, as she threw open her arms, telling him that she belonged only to him. Her thighs opened as unfurled wings, where his fingers slid to her secret place, entering her with jarring quickness. She inhaled sharply, gasping with pleasure at his touch, her moans telling him that she welcomed more – needed more.

His fingers slid in and out of her, first one, then two, devastating her. She was his queen, and he, her humble subject. Hunger, carnal and swift, consumed them both as he turned her onto her stomach, then lifted her hips to gain deeper access.

He positioned her hips, then drove to ease himself inside her in one smooth motion. The scent of sex was all around them while he began to thrust, deep and strong.

Faster, harder, he pumped, the sounds of their flesh slapping together, while he roared with unquenchable enjoyment as she writhed beneath the power of his body.

She was slippery and hot, all fire and flame, and he loved her more than his next breath. 

His cock filled with adrenalin, and together they cried out each other’s name. Like a stick of dynamite, he exploded, rocking them both. She cried out for him, told him she loved him, then followed him into the little death.

He turned her then, lifted her gently and took her in his arms. Kissing her tenderly, he swept errant strands of her hair from her sweat-beaded brow and together, they dissolved from his dream~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He didn’t come home last night, Dembe.”

Elizabeth stood in the doorway of her living area, tired and worried. She needed a shower, forgot to take her pain meds, and hadn’t eaten since the day before. A myriad of emotions flooded her, anger and heartache topping the list.

“He’s not answering his cell. It’s turned off, which is unusual for him. I – I know what he’s going through.” Once again, she fought off tears that had threatened to fall for hours. Since losing the baby, she thought there were no tears left. She was wrong. “I just need to know he’s okay. I want him home.”

His lips pursed with concern for Elizabeth’s pale appearance, he led her to the sofa in the spacious living room, urged her to sit. “I can tell you he is alright, Elizabeth. Alone, but well.”

“Look, I don’t want to pull you into this, Dembe.” Elizabeth emphasized. “I’m just worried sick.” She pushed tangled hair over her shoulders, while Dembe looked on, hands clasped, arms resting on his legs. He disliked the fact that Red didn’t contact Elizabeth all night. And now it was nearly noon, and still, no sign of his friend. 

“I know what he’s done – to the Kings, I mean. I know that he is suffering. He needs to come home so that we – “

Just then, they both turned to the sounds of the front door when it opened, then closed.

They stood, and waited.

And then, there he was, pale and exhausted, then approached the two people he loved most in the world, faced his wife, but didn’t touch her. His eyes had lost their gleam. His mouth was a straight line. He sighed and attempted a weak smiled. He failed. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

That was Dembe’s cue to depart. Leaning towards Elizabeth, he gave her a tender kiss on the temple, then, hugged his friend, giving Red a worried look that spoke volumes. He left the room quietly, discreetly.

Elizabeth shook her head, hands on hips, combative. Yet she didn’t want to fight with Red. He was suffering as he was, but she couldn’t go on like this anymore. He hadn’t touched her, kissed her, barely looked at her.

“I’m not going to ask where you’ve been; not going to fight with you. I don’t have the strength – or the heart, Red.”

He slipped from his coat, and she saw that this was the first time since she’d known him, that his appearance was disheveled. He was sorely in need of a shave, his shirt tail wasn’t tucked inside his slacks, and he appeared almost inebriated. But Elizabeth knew better; he wasn’t drunk. She didn’t need to say more; this wasn’t the time for accusations. 

He hadn’t said a word. He just walked to the bar and poured himself a scotch.

It was barely noon.

He sat in a club chair, crossed his legs; still, he didn't meet her inquisitive gaze, nor speak.

“Red?”

“No.”

Anger grew within her; it bubbled up until she could no longer keep quiet.

“I know you blame me; I know you’re hurting, and I think you’re keeping it all inside.” She went to him, knelt before him, placing her hands on his thighs as he played with the crystal glass rolling between his fingers. “Look at me, damn it!”

And then, she saw it. He turned to lock eyes with hers, and there it was.

Guilt. Blame. Self loathing. Maybe a bit of madness. 

Those beloved stormy gray eyes. Eyes she adored; eyes that, in the past, had exhibited a thousand emotions, all stemming from love. Eyes that had now, grown dim, absent of light.

That was when she knew: he would not forgive her. But worse, he would never forgive himself.

It was over.

“Elizabeth.”

Time seemed to stand still, knowing his next words would wound them both. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you….forgive myself.”

Any attempts to reason with him were futile, she knew that now. He wouldn’t be swayed. This man, her husband, love of her life, had made up his mind. She couldn’t bear to touch him now. Sniffing back tears that refused to ebb, she stood, and made a decision that would haunt her for a long time to come.

She nodded. “Then it’s best that you leave.”

He raised his head and she saw the tears he fought to hold back. He bit the inside of his cheek, but said nothing, confirming her suspicions. 

She took a step back, in an attempt to separate herself from him. He didn’t argue, didn’t come after her. He was giving up: on himself, on her. He wasn’t going to fight for her? She knew this man: leaving her would be best for her, because he’d always thought he didn’t deserve her in the first place. What would it take for him to know how deeply she loved him?

Now he rose, placed the glass on the table and stepped toward her. “I’ll be on a plane tonight.” He told her, his voice flat and emotionless. “I’ll just throw a few things together.”

Her hands trembled, heart raced, even while it was shattering inside her chest. Maybe this was all for the best. Maybe healing would be best done separately. 

He dared to touch her then, lifting her chin to meet his hurt-filled eyes. “Whatever happens, whatever comes, know that I love you.” His voice filled with unshed tears. “That will never change, as long as I live.”

His hand dropped to his side, he gave her one last long look, turned, and was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once Cooper and the team gather to discuss a way to get Liz and Red back together, they formulate a plan that may - or may not - work.

SIX MONTHS LATER….

Harold Cooper completed his phone conversation with Cynthia Panabaker, now the new director of the Department of Justice, sighed deeply, then clasped hands on his desk.

She’d indicated that there hadn’t been a black lister case in months, not to mention, no sight or sound from Raymond Reddington. If nothing broke soon, she told him in no uncertain words, the task force was in danger of disbanding.

No Reddington, no black listers, no task force.

Sitting quietly, his mind on overdrive, Cooper reluctantly put the conversation on the back burner. He was more concerned with his friends, than the job at the moment. That would cost him more than he bargained for in the long run, but he’d never thought that Red and Elizabeth’s break up would go on this long.

He cared about the job, yes. Catching and apprehending black listers were paramount in keeping the team together. Well, a team minus its two most important components: Liz and Red.

He knew how deeply they loved each other. The loss of their unborn child had hit them all – hard.

Yes, they’d all gone on these past months. Arrests had been made, minus Earl King and his sons. Cooper tried not to concentrate on that debacle, because he knew exactly what had happened.

Red happened. Case closed. Done and done.

He’d known Raymond Reddington for over three decades and if it was one thing he understood: the love Red possessed for Elizabeth had made him a better man. He’d been completely devoted to her, and she to him. They’d fallen in love right here, in this building, over time. He’d been the first person they’d told when they decided to marry, over two years before. Never before had he known a man and woman so perfect for each other, despite their different background. Red protected her, kept her safe, with Elizabeth doing the same for him. Each knowing they couldn’t live without the other. Until that night. And then, each blaming the other, blaming themselves. And with broken hearts that were impossible to mend, they went their separate ways.

He didn’t believe for a minute that they could remain apart for long. Something had to be done.

He’d kept in touch with Elizabeth since their separation. He and the team had visited her in the home that Red insisted she keep. Even though divorced, his men guarded her from afar, every day, every night. She’d been under the care of a therapist and was in the process of healing. She went to the gym every day, ran in the park, with Red’s men not far away, never allowing her to see them.

Nothing, not even divorce, would keep him from protecting her. Nothing.

He hadn’t heard from Red in nearly six months. He’d given up, surrendered all ties to the task force. If not for Dembe, who, on occasion, contacted Cooper to report all was well, Cooper would think that Red had been swept off the face of the earth.

Not true. Red had been traveling all around the world, whether by air, water or rail, it was as though he were searching.

For what? Cooper mused.

Didn’t Red know that he needed to come home. To Washington. 

To Elizabeth, because she was his home, now and always.

But at the moment, Cooper needed his team back: his entire team, and that included the Reddingtons. But how?

Seeing the Washington Post on the edge of his desk, he absently leafed through it. Same old shit, just a different day.

Politics were in the toilet, drug wars raged on, criminals still tried to find an easy way to get away with theft, murder, and the like.

Terrorism, domestic and foreign, still headlined the news. Justice had been meted out many times, but like the severed head of a Hydra, evil always grew another ugly head and continued.

He practically threw the newspaper to the floor, when an idea came to him.

It was tricky and risky, and if it became transparent, would never work.

He had to try.

Rising from his chair and opening his office door, he leaned over the railing, seeing what was left of his team sitting at their screens, doing what they always did. 

Their job.

“Agents Ressler, Novabi, Mojtabai,” he called. “In my office. Now. Please.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the team was assembled in Cooper’s office, their questioning looks caused the Director to smile. “I need you all to plan a sort of ‘sting’ with me.”

Donald Ressler was the first to respond. “Sir?”

Samar crossed arms over her chest. “A ‘sting’ sir?”

And then there was Aram. “I loved the movie with Paul Newman and Robert Redford.” He said innocently, causing Cooper to emit a tiny chuckle.

“Sit down, all of you.” All eyes settled on their boss and friend as he continued without drawing out the drama of the situation.

“We all miss Elizabeth and Reddington.” Now he had their rapt attention.

"Elizabeth hasn’t been very active these days, following the divorce. She’s been busy in her garden, reading a lot, and as you all know, doing very well in therapy.” He sighed outwardly and continued. “Last word we had from Reddington, or rather, Dembe, is that he has been traveling extensively, never staying in one place for very long, these last months. He spends money on art and other extravagances, then gives away much of what he purchases.”

“In other words, people, he’s lost.”

“We have to get them back. And not only here, at work, where they both excel, but back together. Do you all agree with me?”

As Navabi and Aram nodded vehemently, Ressler gave a shrug. “Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, trying to lock them together in a room to hash out their differences is not going to solve their problems.”

Cooper tried not sigh with exasperation. Donald Ressler, ever the pragmatist. “No Donald, that’s not my plan.” He slid his eyes to Aram. “It’s going to take a lot of work from you, Agent Mojtabai, to make this work. And if it does, then maybe, just maybe, we can get our agents back before DOJ shuts us down.”

“Is that a real worry, Sir?” Samar asked, concern clouding her dark eyes.

Cooper nodded. “If we don’t have a black lister in our midst soon, I’m afraid so.”

“What do you want me to do, Sir?” Aram asked, enthusiasm filled his voice, while he sat at the edge of his chair. “I miss them both very much as well, but we all know that Mr. Reddington knows everything. I mean, everything. How will we ever fool him?” 

“Well, here’s my idea. Aram, I want you to ‘invent’ a black lister. Call him, ‘Herod’.”

“He was the king of Judea, appointed by Rome in the early days of Christ. He murdered baby boys under the age of two.” Samar squinted her eyes, starting to the get the idea. “You want to entice Red and Liz back with the promise of getting this guy. Will he have something to do with children, Sir.”

“Precisely. Aram will form a dossier on this guy. Aram, make him middle aged, have him steal boys from orphanages and homes; have him forming an army of terrorists, play it up big.”

“Sir.” Donald Ressler interjected. “How will it be that Reddington has never heard of this guy? I mean, the plan sounds a little far-fetched, don’t you think?”

“Samar, that’s where you come in.” Cooper turned his attention to the woman in the center of the room. “We’ll tell Red that you’ve been watching this guy for years, and that now he’s escalating his operation.”

“What’s Reddington’s part in all this?”

Cooper nodded, proud to notice interest forming within his team. “We will tell him to keep an eye out for this guy in a certain place at a certain time. To pose as a dinner guest, tuxedo and all. At the same time, I’ll try to lure Elizabeth to the same place. If I tell them both that they will be meeting, Red will never go for it, especially if Elizabeth is involved in another operation. So, I’ll tell Red that he’ll be meeting you, Samar, when in essence, Elizabeth will be the one to attend.”

“It’s going to be tricky, Sir. But I think we can do it.” Novabi answered with certainty, stressing her confidence in Cooper’s plan. “If Aram can put together a kick-ass villain, all we need to do is involve Red and Liz. Maybe if they see each other –”

“They love each other very much.” Aram, ever the romantic, chimed in. “Mr. Reddington will sweep her off her feet, and they’ll come back to work, oh, maybe even re-marry. Liz kept the house which must mean that she isn’t going to let go of what they had. Every morning when they arrived here, did you see the way they looked at each other?” He sighed, looked lovingly at Samar.

Aram’s three co-workers just stared at him as he went on and on with his romantic scenario for their friends, who they missed, and wanted back on the task force, together.

Aram looked up and shrugged. “So, I’m a hopeless romantic. Didn’t you ever watch old classic Cary Grant movies? Oh, or like Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, Astaire and Rogers, Bogart and Bacall? Happy endings, don’t you see? We have to do this. I’m in, Sir. When do we start?”

“Right away. I’m counting on the three of you to put your heads together and create a persona that Reddington cannot, will not doubt or question. Fake birth records, country of origin, but his name is Herod. Nothing will exist of his real identity. This way, Reddington, cannot trace him.”

Ressler frowned. “As much as I hate to admit it, and I do, Reddington is a genius. If we can’t pass off this charade, he’ll never trust us again. He may disappear and never come back.”

“Don’t say that.” Samar turned to Ressler. “Sir, have you heard from Red. Do you know where he is?”

Cooper nodded. “Dembe, bless his heart, calls me once in a while to check in. Last I heard, he and Red were going to be in New York for a bit. Something to do with the Museum of Natural History. I didn’t ask. I don’t want to know. I’ll call him as soon as your plan gets under way, Aram. We need to do this today, now, before he disappears again. As soon as I have Red come aboard, I’ll visit Elizabeth, pitch her the same plan. I’ll emphasize that she won’t be in any danger. Just sit in a restaurant, and observe, point this guy out when she sees him, that’s it. Aram, can you put together a computer-generated image of ‘Herod’ so that we can print out a photo to give to Red and Elizabeth?”

Aram nodded enthusiastically. “I can. I will, Sir. You can count on me. I’ll get started right away.”

They all nodded in agreement. “Okay, lets get started. I’ll get Panabaker off my back for the time being, but we have to do this thing fast, before Reddington boards a plane again for points unknown.”

Watching his team file out of his office, Cooper took a deep breath and sat behind his desk. Hesitating for only a moment, he picked up the phone, and dialed the number Dembe gave him.

“Yes, hello Mr. Cooper.” The familiar accented voice of Dembe was a welcome sound.

“Is he there, Dembe? Please let me speak to him.”

A long pause. Too long.

“Harold, what a pleasant surprise.”

“It’s good to hear your voice, Red. Where are you?”

“Just arrived in New York. I have a small place just outside Manhattan. God, I love this city. It’s so alive and loud and fun. I need to visit the Vanguard. Jazz club, you know. It’s been years. Want to feed my mind with the soft sounds of Christian McBride and his band. Tell me, Harold, have you ever been to the New York Public Library? What an amazing place. I once got lost in the anthropology section and was nearly locked in all night. But, that’s a story for another time.”

Same old Red, with just a touch of sadness tinting his voice.

“So, you’re not far. Let’s meet for a drink and dinner. What do you say? I have to be in New York for business. Name the place and time.” Cooper didn’t give Red a chance to beg out.

“Would love to see you, Harold. Tell me, how is the team? Is Agent Ressler behaving himself?"

He was in. “I’ll tell you when I see you. Have you spoken to Elizabeth?”

Red completely ignored mention of his ex-wife. “Tomorrow night at nine. Please text me your location and I’ll have Dembe pick you up. Have to get off the line, Harold. See you then.”

The call was disconnected, but at least Harold would get to see his friend.

And hopefully be convincing enough to convince the concierge of crime to believe the fake rouse, designed to bring he and Elizabeth back together.

When did he become cupid? When did the director of the FBI Task Force become a match maker?

He’d almost lost a precious woman, who’d been like a daughter to him. When he witnessed a deep-seated grief and suffering from the loss of her pregnancy. When he saw Red go mad with sadness and disappear. When he saw them both break apart and separate over their loss.

No, this was the right move. And he was going to take charge to drive them back into each other's arms, no matter what it took.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red returned the burner cell to Dembe, then walked to the window of his small, out of the way safe house in Manhattan. Thanking Dembe for the drink he was handed, he leaned against the wall, and looked out over the city. How many times had he visited here, with her? Why did he come back, after all this time? Why was he torturing himself with memories of her?

Because he would never be free of her. Elizabeth. His love, his heart.

His wife.

He stared down at his wedding band, the wide, shiny circle of gold. The one thing that had remained his constant these many months without her. He’d never take it off. He’d made a vow and no matter whether they were together or not, his ring was not a piece of jewelry, it was a part of him. She’d given it to him, placed it on his finger, and there it would remain until the day he died.

Drinking his scotch in one swallow, his thoughts of her never left him. He’d been halfway around the world and back these past months, traveling from Switzerland to Australia, from the Caribbean to the Maldives. He’d bantered around these foreign lands for a few days, then became bored and departed for other lands, far and wide.

And still, she was with him. In his heart, and dreams. He heard the magic of her laughter everywhere, caught the subtle scent of her perfume, missed the warmth and feel of her body. Women approached him wherever he went: female acquaintances who’d offered him the pleasure and lust of themselves to him, but he wasn’t interested. They weren’t her.

It was Elizabeth. His way home. It would always be Elizabeth.

He’d left her alone all these months, not calling or writing. He knew he should have, but it was what she wished, and until she called or got in contact with him, that was the way it would remain.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t still deeply in love with her. If possible, he loved her more now than ever. 

As he told her when he left her that horrible night, he would always love her, that would never change.

So, in the meantime, he’d meet with Harold, and tell him some stories of his exploits in the time he’d been away from the post office, from Washington and Bethesda.

He would not return to help the FBI. That wasn’t an option. He couldn’t return without her.

He remained bereft without Elizabeth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next evening found Harold Cooper arriving at the meeting point, and waited for Red.  
And waited.

Finally, Dembe appeared, to Cooper’s relief.

“Mr. Cooper, sorry to keep you waiting. Please come with me.”

Cooper nodded followed Dembe to the shiny black Mercedes, climbed in the back seat, where Red was waiting for him.

“Harold, sorry for all the cloak and dagger. I had a ‘business’ meeting, and just couldn’t get away.”

Cooper nodded, brows raised, while shaking Red’s hand in greeting. “Nothing you do will ever surprise me, Red. It’s been a long time.”

Dembe drove from the curb as the two men in the back seat faced each other and resumed their conversation.

“I can’t say I’m not surprised at receiving your call, Harold. You know, of course, that I’m not returning to the ‘team’ as you call it." Then he quickly and deftly changed the subject. "I have a new cook. To tell the truth, I stole him away from an adversary.” Red exhaled a charmingly evil chuckle. “So, let’s have dinner. I’ll be flying out first thing in the morning.” Red would divulge no more, so Cooper chimed in, quickly, before he lost what little momentum he’d claimed.

“Red, we have a case.”

Red didn’t miss a beat as he evaded Cooper’s announcement. “Harold, have you ever seen the Asperatus Formation in New Zealand? Discovered in 1951. Splendid, spectacular.” He teased, effectively side-stepping Cooper’s words. “I was in Japan last month, witnessed the Lenticular Clouds over Mt. Fuji; reduced me to tears ---”

“-- --Damn it, Red, will you just shut up for one minute and listen to me!”

And there it was. Red's smile fell, and like removing a mask of false bravado, his expression revealed a man who’d lost nearly everything he cared for in life, except for his enormous wealth. His left eye twitched a bit, then he quieted, frowned, and sat silent.

“I’m trying to tell you that I need you on a crucial, time sensitive case. You don’t have to do anything of consequence, just, for all intents and purposes, become a look-out for a suspect; trap him until we can surround him. The fate of countless children may be at risk.”

Now he had Red’s attention. “I’m listening.” Red squinted, the wheels of suspicion rolling in his mind. “Why doesn’t the FBI simply handle this? It’s obviously not one of mine.”

Cooper had come prepared. “Because I trust you. Just listen to what I have to say.”

“Of course, Harold.”

Within the hour, they were settled in Red’s safe house, drinking single-malt scotch and savoring filet mignon and truffles, complete with the dulcet tones of soft jazz in the background. Cooper had handed Red a folder containing everything the concierge of crime needed to know about the man that had been constructed/created from the brilliant mind of Aram. It was an in-depth dossier from all points of view, and Cooper held his breath as he watched Red study the information handed to him.

Red closed the folder. “So, all I have to do is wear a tux, meet Agent Novabi in a pre-planned meeting place, pose as one half of a married couple, and wait for this ‘Herod’ to appear? Seems a little pedestrian, even for the FBI, Harold.”

Cooper was not going to let him get away. “We have word he’s in New York, Red. He’s planning a meeting to kidnap young male orphans from Holy Cross Orphanage. You and Novabi will engage him in conversation. We need to stop him before he meets his contact. I know you can do that with your eyes closed. I need you to do this for us, Red, then you can fly away to wherever.”

Taking another sip from the cut crystal tumbler, Red sat silent for a bit. Cooper could tell he was turning the idea around in his head. “You know, Harold, I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you. I’m an old softie, it seems. Fine….I’m in. And then, I’m done.”

Inside his head, Cooper was jumping up and down. “Good. I appreciate the favor. So, what’s for dessert?”

As they re-visited their friendship for a bit, at one point, they sat silent, sipping exquisite brandy. Cooper knew it was only a matter of time. Then…..

“How is she?”

Cooper looked up, saw the sincere concern in Red’s expression, and knew he was doing the right thing by duping his friend. “She’s fine. Healing. Getting her strength back.”

Red nodded, managed a sad smile. “Good.”

“Why don’t you call her, Red?”

“What’s done is done.” Red stated flatly.

“Red.” 

“No.”

And with that final, single word, Cooper knew the evening, and any talk of Elizabeth, was at an end. 

But not for long, not if I have anything to do with it, Cooper thought.

After Dembe drove Cooper home, he allowed a smile, texted his team to inform them that Red was convinced the plan was a go. 

Now all he had to do was convince Elizabeth to join the team for this assignment.

He texted her, asking her to contact him to discuss an urgent matter.

Harold knew all this could blow up in his face, and if it did, so be it. Red and Elizabeth loved each other, bottom line. And if the director of the FBI task force had to play cupid to get them back together, then, he could do no more. They deserved to be together, to have a life together. This charade was worth it.

Now, all he had to do was get Elizabeth to agree, put them in a room together, and hope it was enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early the next morning, Cooper’s cell buzzed.

Elizabeth.

“Good morning, Sir. How are you?”

And the FBI director smiled inwardly.

“I’m fine Elizabeth. Can we get together today? I’d like to discuss an important matter with you?”

A pause, that told him that her curiosity was piqued. “Yes, Sir. Sure. Can you come over the house for lunch?”

“I look forward to seeing you. Mind if I bring along some friends?”

She chuckled lightly. “Of course; the more the merrier.”

They disconnected. He began to whistle an up-beat tune as he prepared for work, looking forward to selling the plan to Elizabeth, with the team as back-up.

Add to that, the idea of turning the tables on Raymond Reddington for a change, had just made his day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cooper's plan works as Red and Elizabeth meet; but will the unplanned rendezvous prompt a reconciliation? Read on......

Two days later, the task force, minus Reddington, gathered around Elizabeth’s dining room table, enjoying Chinese take-out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t have time to cook.” Elizabeth explained with a smile, then taking another bite of her egg roll. “I had a therapy session, went to the gym, then I noticed that the roses in my garden were –”

“—It’s okay, Liz.” Samar interrupted her friend, happy to see Elizabeth looking healthy once more. “It’s like old times: eating out of containers while we pulled all-nighters in the post office.”

Aram nodded enthusiastically, then faced his dear friend. “We miss you Liz. The war room is just not the same without you.”

“I miss you all too.” She replied softly, a faraway look in her sapphire eyes.

Cooper did not miss that look. To this end, he attempted to deflect by distracting her with the matter at hand. “Well, that’s why we’re all here. Besides enjoying your company and visiting this lovely home again. We have a proposition for you, an assignment that’s perfect for you. Interested in hearing it? He asked, catching her undivided attention. “It’s a case.”

Elizabeth placed the chop sticks on her plate, clasped her hands, then exhaled. “A case? Sir, you know I’m not ready to….”

Eyebrows raised, he frowned, softened his voice. “I know no such thing. Just listen to what we have to say, and then, if you say ‘no’, we won’t discuss it again. Deal?”

Ressler leaned forward, put on his best false façade and cleared his throat as Cooper slid the dossier across the table. “It’s basically surveillance; you and I will pose as a married couple, stake out this guy, and just give the signal when we spot him. The FBI will do the rest. So, all we have to do is get dressed up, attend dinner in the chosen spot, and, um, pose as lookouts.”

Cooper cringed, along with Aram as Ressler did his best to sell the idea to Elizabeth. Samar just rolled her eyes and kept her composure.

Elizabeth looked from one colleague to another, then nodded reluctantly, while picking up the folder and opening it. “Herod?”

“Read on, Elizabeth. It would be a smooth transition back to the job. I guess I don’t have to tell you, we need you back.”

Elizabeth didn’t hear him. She was too busy reading about this man called Herod. Leaning back in her chair, she turned page after page, nodding, grimacing, studying.

Profiling.

If Aram did his job, Cooper thought silently, Elizabeth would be sold on the idea – and the assignment.

“Would you excuse me for a moment?” She asked, rising from her chair. “I need to make a decision.” Not waiting for an answer, she walked from the room carrying the dossier, heading for the quiet solitude of her back terrace.

Quiet moments drifted by, then Cooper placed his napkin beside his plate. “Stay here, please." He requested to all sitting at the table. "I’ll be right back.”

He found Elizabeth leaning against the intricate wrought iron railing, the folder under her arm, staring out into the moonlight.

Turning to face him when he approached, she forced a sad smile, shielding her emotions as best she could. “How is he?”

He didn’t miss the sparkle of her diamond wedding band as she pushed dark strands of hair behind her ear. “He acts as if he’s fine. All bravado and arrogance; ignores questions with his usual aplomb.”

She exhaled a tiny sob. “Ever the sin-eater.”

“Elizabeth – “

She looked away, shook her head, silent.

“If coming here, pitching this job has caused you any pain, I sincerely apologize. You are like my child; the last thing I would ever do is hurt you. You must know that.”

She lifted her head and he could see her tear-filled eyes. “Life goes on, Sir.” A cleansing breath. “Count me in.”

Cooper exhaled a sigh of relief. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He gave her a fatherly hug. “Let’s go finish our dinner, then make a plan.”

Before they returned to the dining room, Elizabeth took a moment to look down and stare at her wedding ring.

A blanket of pain crossed her chest, centered on her heart, still wounded from the loss of her child and – her husband. Yet, she needed to go on with her life, for all involved. And if the team needed her, she was ready.

The rest of the evening was spent between laughter and food, then discussing the man named ‘Herod’.

A fictional character conjured up from the mind of Harold Cooper and constructed to make their friends find each other again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As she readied herself for sleep, Elizabeth brushed her hair, removed her make-up, then sat on the edge of the all too roomy king-sized bed. 

Thinking back on all Mr. Cooper and the team discussed this evening, she sighed deeply, thinking of all she’d lost and missed these past months without Red.

Her heart ached every second he’d been gone from her heart, her bed, her body.

Running a finger over the cool metal and stones of her stunning eternity ring, she’d made a promise to never remove it from her finger, and she never would. 

Sliding under the sheets, she threw the cashmere blanket over her, then moved to his side of the bed, repeating a ritual she’d done since he’d left her.

Settling in, she hugged his pillow, closed her eyes, forcing herself to find oblivion in slumber.

She agreed to assist the task force for this assignment. She’d study the dossier more in depth tomorrow, then meet with the team once more to discuss the date and time. At least she’d be with Ressler as her partner at the meeting place, posing as one half of a married couple. But she already missed having Red beside her, and Ressler could in no way compare to her husband, either as an act, or in real life.

As she fell asleep, thoughts going to a vision of Red, what they were together, who they were as lovers, friends and co-workers, she gave a tiny thought to their unborn child. She would have been going into her eighth month. Sliding her hand down to her flat tummy, she said a silent prayer, hoping that someday, maybe, she would again be able to bear a child.

Red’s child.

She hadn’t heard from him since the night he told her he’d love her, no matter what, and she’d believed him. She would love him always, there was simply no other option for her. Her devotion for him was absolute, final and all encompassing.

She was still, now and forever, deeply in love with Red.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A WEEK LATER….

All was arranged. Dembe stopped the car in front of the eatery, parked the car, and turned to Red, handing him his burner cell.

“Raymond, Baz and I will circle the perimeter in order to keep you and Agent Navabi safe.”

Red pursed his lips and shook his head. “No need, Dembe. Agent Navabi is quite capable.” He pushed aside his friend’s concern. “I’m in the mood for osso buco tonight, along with an ample quantity of martinis, while we wait for this unfortunate individual to fall into our trap.” 

Dembe was used to Red’s flip remarks after all these years. He nodded affirmatively, watching Red climb from the vehicle, assess his surroundings, then enter the restaurant. He drove away, but not far, turning a corner to pick up Baz, who waited in the shadows of an abandoned doorway.

Red may be unconcerned by his situation tonight, but Dembe was taking no chances. He found it a bit odd that he and Raymond had never heard of ‘Herod’, and therefore, he and Baz would take extra precautions to make sure whatever happened, Agent Navabi and Raymond were kept safe. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red was shown to a corner booth, then sat facing the patrons, with his back to the wall. The eatery appeared first rate, the ambiance exceptional, along with the music that drifted through hidden speakers, low and jazzy.

Agent Navabi had yet to appear, so Red thought he’d enjoy the first of hopefully, many very dry martinis. He gave the server his order, then settled back in his chair, and proceeded to watch every minute detail that surrounded him.

He’d memorized the photo of the man he was waiting for and would recognize him instantly. This Herod was to meet with another man, the go-between, who would hand Herod a briefcase containing the location of a shipment of boys to be taken and kidnapped.

Red’s blood boiled at the thought. Through the years, he’d encountered hundreds of low lives who deserved justice for their crimes, but any individual, or group, who preyed on children for the purpose of slavery, were among the lowest of the low.

He only hoped he was able to get to this thug to mete out his own brand of justice before the FBI took him into custody.

His martini was served, and, gazing at his watch, realized there was still no sign of Agent Navabi.

He looked up, and there she was. But it wasn’t Samar.

It was Elizabeth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A second. A moment. A breath.

She was here, standing tall and regal in a simple, but stunning black dress, her hair upswept to portray the lovely curve of her creamy shoulders. Tall black heels showed off her beautiful legs. She carried a red beaded clutch. 

He couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe. She was here, not ten feet from him. His wife. His only love.

He stood to face her, as eyes locked on the other, as if frozen in time and space. Her blue eyes were the ocean, and he wished to drown himself in her.

Her mouth opened in silent gasp of surprise, yet her body language betrayed nothing. He blinked several times, as if he couldn’t believe the lovely vision. 

“Elizabeth.”

“Red.”

Their names recited in unison, until she took a hesitant step forward and he rushed to pull out her chair.

He savored her warmth as he allowed his fingers to brush her flawless skin when he pushed her chair closer to the table.

Quickly, he sat across from her. There was so much so say, and yet, what could be said at this moment?

He needed to be saved from the mesmerizing sapphires that stared back at him. Break the ice, he screamed to himself. Talk to her, you fool.

So he said the first thing that came to mind. “It seems we’ve been duped. Agent Ressler's loss is certainly my gain.”

And then, that tentative smile was brought forth from those luscious lips, that mouth that he’d missed all these months. No, not months. Forever.

She placed the clutch to her right on the table, and together they uttered the name that had concocted this plan. “Cooper.”

The ice was broken. It was a start.

“Are you alright?” He leaned toward her, his voice whispery and deep.

She nodded; her eyes bright with hope. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. You’ve lost weight.” She commented, brushing a wisp of hair behind her ear with her left hand.

He missed nothing. “You’re still wearing your ring.”

Her eyes slid to his hand. “So are you.”

“A promise is a promise.” Was his reply. 

He motioned to the server. “What are you drinking?”

“An Aviation cocktail.” She looked at Red, who wanted to sob at the sight of her, and her memory of the first time they shared drinks and conversation, all those years ago.

When the waiter turned to fulfill her request, Red smiled at her. “It seems that there is no ‘Herod’”. He was filled with a combination of wonderment and surprise, finding himself a bit miffed, realizing that he’d been fooled – by the FBI of all things.

“We have friends who love us, Red, and who’ve been worried all these months, since you left.” Her eyes grew shiny with unshed tears. “You left me to grieve, to bear the loss of our child – alone. That was unforgivable, Red. That’s why I had to file for divorce, not because I don’t love you, because I did, and still do. You distanced yourself from me the moment I was injured.”

Her drink was placed on the table, and she wasted no time in taking a long swallow of the spring-tasting cool beverage in order to wet her parched throat.

He shook his head. “I know what I did cannot be undone. I just couldn’t bear life without you, Lizzie. You weren’t supposed to be there. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

“—But I did.” She kept her emotions in check, as the restaurant quickly became crowded with patrons. “It was as though you didn’t trust me to take care of myself, when you know I can. We’ve been through much these past years, Red. It’s my job.” Her whispers were impassioned and demanded him to listen to every word. “I take responsibility for the loss of our baby, but I couldn’t just let you go in alone, when I knew I was capable of protecting you. Mistakes were made, and we both paid the price.”

She was magnificent. Her face flushed with passion, her voice hoarse with emotion. Her body language exhibiting more than just a driving determination to let him know she knew who she was, and whatever happened that night, she took as much responsibility as he did. If he fell to Hell and back, he couldn’t love her more than he did right now. “Nothing is worse than losing you, do you understand? I had to leave in order to save you – from me. I needed to suffer my desolation in silence. Can you ever forgive me?” He asked simply.

“I’ll ask you the same question.” She searched his beloved face for any sign of anger or betrayal, taking in all his handsome features. His stormy expressive eyes, strong chin, kissable mouth. She dared to slide her hand across the table, covering the warmth of his own. “We need to talk Red. About everything.”

Her touch sent shocks of desire through him. He turned his hand so that his fingers now entwined with hers. “Yes.”

“Did I tell you how magnificent you look tonight? You changed your hair.”

Her eyes glazed over as she returned the compliment. “New tux?”

He chuckled lightly, taking a last sip of his martini.

“I guess we should let Mr. Cooper know the rouse is over. Then we can go somewhere, alone.”

“Yes. But I need to use the lady’s room. I’ll be right back.”

As Red stood and pulled out her chair, he dared to place his cheek beside her own, relishing the slight scent of her perfume, so familiar, so alluring. She aroused him, just by standing near.

“Hurry.” He whispered, then watched her leave, his heart racing and at the same time, rejoicing at the sight of her. 

And then something filled him, something he hadn't experienced in months.

Hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the bar, a man watched the exchange between the couple and saw his chance to approach Reddington, when the attractive woman rose from the table and walked away.

TO BE CONTINUED……


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Red and Elizabeth ponder their future together, they come to the realization that the love they share, can truly conquer all.

Red found that his hands were trembling as he took a sip of his martini.

His Lizzie was here, and he was going to make sure they were never apart again. Why hadn’t he told her how deeply he’d missed her? Why hadn’t he told her how much he loved her? 

Why didn’t he --?

“Raymond Reddington.”

Red looked up at the sound of his name. A tall, well-muscled man, impeccably dressed, diamond rings covered at least four fingers. His cologne was French, his shoes hand-made Italian. 

Red recognized him yet hid that fact in order to keep the peace, and hopefully, Elizabeth safe. “Sorry, you seem to have the advantage. Do I know you?” He lied.

The man was visibly insulted at Red’s question. “Let me refresh your memory.” His accent was thick and Latin edged. 

Red stood, disguising his rage toward this thug. The man clearly concealed a weapon in his coat pocket. “Why don’t you give me a hint?”

The man grew angrier with each taunt Red threw at him. “My name is Saldana Reale. We’ve never met. However, many years ago, you destroyed my growing export business. My specialty is smuggling, Mr. Reddington; you and your associates swooped in and took it from me. But my associates call me Commodore. I trusted General Yabari with forty million to bring me your head. Is your memory clearer now?”

Red shrugged, feigning boredom. He almost couldn’t believe the ignorance of this man, daring a confrontation in a public venue that held innocent people. All he could think about was Lizzie, who could walk into the middle of this altercation at any second. Red was carrying a weapon but would not draw attention to himself unless he absolutely had to. He’d stall Reale until either Dembe, or the police stepped in. Then he’d grab Lizzie and get her to safety. That was all that mattered.

“I was told a lovely dark-haired woman killed Yabari. The woman with you? If she is the one, then, after I deal with you, I’ll take her with me. She will bring many dollars for her beauty – and usefulness.”

Red’s left eye twitched at the mention of Elizabeth. “Mention her again and I’ll cut out your tongue.” 

Both men stood silent for less than a moment, face to face, legs apart, as if they were in an old western gunfight. Red noticed the tiny thread of fear in Reale’s eyes, so he went for the jugular. “There are innocents in this establishment, Reale. You haven’t given this encounter much thought, now, have you. Now, why don’t you go back to the bar, finish your drink and leave quietly before I empty my clip inside that thick skull of yours.” Red sneered. “Oh, and don’t forget to tip your bartender.”

Eyebrows raised in mockery, Red smiled and watched while Reale backed away, unsure of what his next move should be. 

What happened next was barely a blur and materialized in seemingly slow motion.

Red took his eyes from Reale for a split second to lift his drink, while Reale stepped forward, reached for his weapon from an inside pocket, and aimed it, point blank, at Red’s heart.

In the time it took Elizabeth to step back into the dining area and witness the nightmare before her, a flash of the scene at the vicarage months ago shook her to the core. Déjà vu, she thought. Although this time, she was prepared.

Her husband was in danger; a gun aimed at his beloved heart, and she would not stand for it. Not again….not again.

Enraged and filled with adrenalin, she pulled her clutch from under her arm, opened the silver clasp, and pulled out her concealed weapon.

Wasting no time, she pushed back the safety, took a steady stance, aimed, and fired.

The man fell into a heap onto the floor, while chaos ensued. From out of nowhere, Dembe and Baz appeared, shielded Red, while Elizabeth took charge.

She approached the man, kicked the gun from the proximity of his body, then leaned over to check his pulse.

Red was at her side instantly. “Lizzie.”

She turned at the sound of her name, her hair free from its restraints and falling to her shoulders, her cheeks pink and flushed with adrenalin, her eyes bright as star sapphires.

She was the most stunningly beautiful creature ever created. His wife.

“He’s dead.” She announced, voice filled with authority, as security and police appeared. She identified herself to law enforcement, while Red stood by her side. 

“We should go.” Red slid his arm around her waist, guiding her to the exit. She leaned into his embrace, while Dembe led the way, and gently took her gun, then Baz guided them all from the restaurant and into their waiting Mercedes.

“I should stay and wait to make a statement.” She told Red with a trembling voice before they entered the vehicle.

“No.” Red told her, and together they climbed into the back seat. “Let the FBI handle this.” He told her with finality, then took her back into his strong embrace, calming her. Her heartbeat was racing so fast he could feel it, and once her adrenalin slowed, she would more than likely crash. But he was here, with her, and would never leave her again.

“Who was that man?” Her voice broke from the emotional confrontation.

Reale wasn’t important enough to even rate a mention. He lifted her chin and raised her head to meet his eyes. “You saved me, Lizzie, again.”

His voice filled with wonder at the degree of courage this woman held inside her heart, her entire being. “And what do you say when someone does something nice for you?”

He kissed her then, the touch of her mouth seductive and warm, lips meant only for him. A tender touch, her warmth filling him with a love that would, could never die. She could never be anything other than a warrior, his protector, whether he liked it or not. She answered his kiss by moving over him, perching on his lap. She took his face between her hands and they sealed their love with a kiss that, in combination with the danger they’d just faced, needed no words to convey.

Yet, he had to tell her, answer her question. He reluctantly pulled away from her, and smiled, pushing a soft lock behind her ear. “Thank you.”

She nodded. “You’re welcome.”

She burrowed into him, so close nothing could ever separate them again.

“Take me home, Red. Take me home.”

“Shhh.” He comforted her as warmth burrowed into him. “Soon, Lizzie. We’ll be home soon.”

He took her hand in his, trembling and cool, brought it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, while he whispered assurances in her ear, telling her how brave she’d been, never revealing the fear he’d experienced. Not because he was a second from dying but because he could have been killed before telling her how much he loved her.

But yes, she knew. She’d always known.

He needed her now like flowers needed sunlight; like the desert needed rain.

He would always need her. She was the other half of his soul: his way home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment the car stopped in the driveway of the safe house, Dembe ran around the car and opened the door.  
Red grabbed Elizabeth’s hand, bid Dembe good night, and both ran inside the house, holding tight, with one thought in mind:

To be together.

Red shoved open the door, kicked it shut, and caught her as she launched herself into his arms, and they came together, kissing violently, hungrily.

Lips and tongues met and swirled, while Elizabeth groaned, exhibiting her need and want of him. Choking on her tears, she held his head still while he pushed her against the front door. They weren’t going to make it to the bed. Not yet.

Holding the back of her head tightly, he devoured her mouth, while their lips fused. His tongue dove deep and she moaned at the familiar taste of him. Her hands traveled and held tight to his arms; his muscles tensed at her touch.

“Don’t stop, Red.” She cried between ravishing kisses as he unzipped her dress and let it dribble to the floor. “Don’t stop.”

“Never.” His voice was gravel and thick with his aching arousal. His hands moved up to rip off her bra. He draped her over his arm to sample her breasts, then cupped his hand around her, suckling and biting, reveling in her beauty as he grew harder with each caress, each taste and lick and nip.

Her nipples were hard nubs, inviting and arousing, and he pulled at her, once twice, until she surged into climax, just like that. The sounds she made with her orgasm drove him wild. Just then, he felt her unzip his slacks, and he hardened like a brick, needing her like he needed air.

He ripped at the tiny strip of silk at her center, buried a finger inside her. Ahhh, wet and hot, and ready for him. He couldn’t wait a moment longer as he felt her pull down his pants and underwear. Feeling her encircle his length, he cried out, desperate to be inside her. Fingers tangled and shook as they completed undressing the other, until they were naked. He lifted her hips against the door, and then she felt him – all of him.

He was steel and muscle and she let out a long, low cry as his cock slid inside her, burying that part of him that connected them. 

She lowered her hand and opened herself more for his easy access, wanting to be bound to him in the most elemental way possible. She wrapped her legs around him, stretching wide, welcoming him into her heat until he was fully impaled.

His coarse hair rubbed against her inner thighs, and Elizabeth moved closer as he began to move, slowly at first, then she grabbed the round cheeks of his rear, pushing him inside her, coaxing him to move harder, hotter, repeating the words, don’t stop.

Then their eyes met: gray on blue, the sky over the sea, and Elizabeth realized he was at the end of an emotional thread. She nodded.

She ran her hand over his chest then, the light hairs tickling her fingers. His heart pounded, and she could almost feel the blood rushing to his center, where their bodies met and bonded.

She came again, as he stroked and pushed, then kissed her hard as his climax built up from deep within him.

He gave a hearty roar as his body exploded in time with hers. He came and came inside her, embracing her tight and fast, their eyes locked with the realization that they could never bear to be apart, ever again.

All was forgiven. Nothing had been worse than losing her, losing himself.

No more. This was right. This was home. She was, today and always, his way home. Like Polaris, the north star, he’d found his way back to her. 

He lifted her then in his arms, his legs shaking from his exertion, carried her to the bedroom down the hall, and there, they slept in each other's arms, peaceful and dreamless, for the first time in nearly a year.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

EPILOGUE – A YEAR LATER

Elizabeth Reddington stood at the full-length mirror in her spacious bedroom. Her diamond wedding ring, now joined by a thinner eternity band, gleamed in the amber lamp light. Turning to her side, she smiled with joy, running her hand down her swollen stomach, chuckling lightly as her child kicked vigorously inside her.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

He had stepped up behind her, his hand resting over hers, covering the swollen mound that now rolled with the activity of their child, now due in a mere three weeks.

“I’m hungry.”

They shared a laugh that echoed throughout their bedroom.

“Dembe assured me that he’s made enough food to appease even you, Lizzie.” He teased as she punched his arm.

“She’s very feisty tonight.” A myriad of emotions filled Red as his unborn daughter kicked and turned within her mother’s womb.

Hearing voices from their dining room, Red and Elizabeth faced each other. “We should go down and greet our guests. Besides, I hope Dembe made chocolate mousse for dessert. You think he’s cooked those tiny roasted potatoes I love so much? You never told me he was such an excellent cook.”

He took her arm and pulled it through his own as they stepped from the bedroom, and downstairs to where their friends waited. “If I’d told you, you might have married him instead of me.” He joked.

They shared a laugh, and he steadied her as they descended the stairway, her extra weight making her a bit awkward, yet he loved the way she waddled as she carried their child, conceived in love, the night they’d reconciled, the night she saved him.

Walking hand in hand inside their dining room where the mouth-watering scents filled the air, they were greeted by Harold Cooper, Aram, Ressler and Samar.

Aram was the first to approach his friend. “Liz, you look, well, you’re absolutely glowing!”

“That’s because I’m so fat, I can hardly breathe.” Elizabeth smiled and managed an awkward hug, then allowed Red to help her into an upholstered dining chair at one end of the long table while she surveyed the appetizers that Dembe had put forth. Her mouth watered at the sights of all her favorite foods. Such a darling man.

“Well…. this is my dinner. What are the rest of you going to eat?”

They dissolved in laughter, while Red poured champagne, then handed her a tall glass of cool sparkling grape juice. Harold Cooper stood next to Red, and directed his remarks to the room.

“If our charming host would allow me, I’d like to make a toast.”

Red nodded his assent, leaned over and kissed his wife.

“Raise your glasses.”

“I’m proud to say that with the reconciliation of you two, our conspiracy was absolutely successful.” He began. “And standing as best man at your second wedding last year, brought me, and all of us, much happiness. To Red and Elizabeth, happiness always, because no two people deserve it more.”

They each took a sip of their beverage, when Red took over and had his say, tongue in cheek. “I must say, Harold, that I’ve never been quite so fooled. I guess I haven’t been giving the FBI the credit it so richly deserves.” Red joked, winked at his wife. 

Samar smiled, shook her head and held her glass high. “Just admit it, Red; we got you. You fell for our sting: hook, line and sinker.”

“Bravo.” Red lifted his glass, conceding to the cheers coming from his friends.

Dinner was evenutally served by a very proud Dembe, who then took a seat at the table with his friends, Red sat beside Elizabeth, where they shared intimate conversation, as well as those roasted potatoes, along with stuffed asparagus, and the filet mignon that Dembe had so lovingly created. 

She was laughing and eating and sharing friendly conversation with her friends, frequently exchanging loving glances with her husband, who couldn’t recall the last time he found this degree of happiness, fulfilment.

Love.

The night ended early, as Elizabeth began to fall asleep at the table just after dessert.

After their guests departed, Red bid Dembe goodnight, then tended to his wife.

“What a lovely night, Red." Elizabeth proclaimed sleepily. "A beautiful memory to share for many years to come.” He curved his arm around her, supporting her weight as they made their way to the bedroom. She needed her rest, and he intended to make sure she did nothing until the baby arrived. Easier said than done, he smiled inwardly. You couldn’t convince Elizabeth Reddington to do anything she didn’t want to do.

As he helped her don a lavender silk night gown, he pulled back the bed linens, and because of her pregnant bulk, lifted and settled her in bed.

“Thank you, Red.” She told him, taking his face between her hands, and kissing him, deeply, with a passion that aroused him. He enjoyed that reaction each time she touched him, looked at him, kissed him. Every time they came together was like the first time. 

“For what, sweetheart?” He changed into his pajamas as well, slid behind her, then spooned her, while she placed their palms on their resting child. She was so tired, so breathtakingly beautiful, each day he awakened, grateful that they’d found their way back to one other.

“For this life.” Her voice began to wane from fatigue. “For your love and support. For letting me be who I am. For our baby. I love you…..” 

Silence. She’d fallen asleep in his arms. This was where she belonged since that fateful day they’d met at the post office, all those years ago.

“I love you too, Lizzie.” He whispered, tears choking him as he kissed her cheek. Their child had quieted, and he knew it was time to sleep as well.

Tenderly resting his hand over the place where their child rested, he smiled. “And I love you too, little Agnes. I promise to keep you both safe. Always.”

Within moments, slumber blessed him with sweet dreams of he and Elizabeth walking in the park, their little girl between them, holding their hands, and never letting go.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'd like to thank cress26, for her endless encouragement, inspiration, and always brilliant ideas when I am in the throes of writers block ~ you rock, my friend; Separated Together wouldn't be possible without you ~~
> 
> I'd also like to thank you all for your kind, lovely words, and for taking the time to read my Lizzington Love Stories; Please let me know how you enjoyed Red and Liz in the alternate universes I've created for them ~~ I'll be back with a new story soon, hopefully ~ in the meantime, let's enjoy the few episodes of 7B that are available to us all ~ Stay safe in this time of crisis, and let's all keep in touch, make sure our friends are doing okay ~ I love you all.
> 
> I do not own The Blacklist or any of its characters.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Lizzington work of pure fiction and wishful thinking; An alternate world story of love, loss, guilt and forgiveness; 
> 
> I do not own The Blacklist or any of its characters.
> 
> Thanks to my beta/friend/conscience/advisor, etc.....cress26 - none of this is possible without your support, friendship and incredible brilliance; no one understand these characters the way you do.


End file.
